Dragon's Blood Page 3

  The dragon man remained silent for a while, scratching Brida’s head while he contemplated his words. “Yeah, I think it’s time we left Tregaron and went home.”

  “Can you fly? Are you able to finally change back?”

  Alushia sighed. “I want to find my father.”

  A rustling in the leaves to her left made Alushia’s heart leap.

  “What was that?”

  Ryn and Brida rose and scoured the brush.

  “I don’t see anything.”

  Crunching leaves indicated something was there.

  “Wait…I can…feel it,” Alushia said. Ryn cocked his head to the side.

  “You can feel it?”

  “It’s a…” she closed her eyes and concentrated until a picture emerged in her mind. “It’s a wolf pup. And it’s lost.”

  “How would you know what it is?”

  “I can’t say for sure, but it’s talking to me. Sort of. Kinda like Brida does.”

  Ryn turned his head to the side and then the words seemed to register. “You can feel it,” he said quietly. “Of course.”

  Alushia listened as the wolf pup sent impressions to her mind. Like Brida, they were never words as humans understood them. They were more like impressions and colors and emotions. They were conveyed to her as though the animals were speaking to her. It took her a long time to realize what was happening when she first encountered the ability.

  When she was little and found Brida along the stream, she felt the impressions in her mind but didn’t understand what was happening. She did feel safe from the snowcat, as though she wanted to be her friend. When she approached her, she knew the snowcat wouldn’t hurt her, but she couldn’t tell why or how she knew, because she didn’t know herself. The bond had grown considerably stronger since then and it was something she took for granted. Their connection was always present.

  Every so often, she’d get the same type of impression from stray animals, but nothing she ever pursued. For someone in Tregaron to have those kinds of abilities, it often led to accusations of being a halfling only because it was an unnatural trait that no one knew how to understand. She said nothing about it and dismissed it as imagination. Since meeting Ryn and having her entire world turned upside down, she embraced the sensations as more than mere imagination.

  The wolf pup emerged from the brush. Its fur was matted with twigs and leaves. It had yellow eyes and Alushia could see its ribs protruding through its thin hide.

  “Ryn, give it something to eat,” she said quietly.

  The dragon-man looked to Brida and then to Alushia. “I don’t have anything.”

  Alushia nodded.

  “I’m sorry, fella, we don’t have food right now. If you want to stay with us, I’m sure we’ll have something soon.”

  The wolf pup moved its head upwards, its golden eyes twinkling, then ran back into the forest. The impressions stopped, the connection severed.

  “What was that about?” Ryn asked.

  “It was lost and hungry. It didn’t feel threatened by me, but I think it was too scared to stay.”

  “So when did you first realize you had this gift?” Ryn asked as he sat and leaned against an elm tree.

  Alushia sat and picked up a stick, scrawling on the hard dirt next to her. “When I met Brida. Before then, I had fleeting images float in my mind that I thought were my imagination. It wasn’t until we met in the forest near my home that I picked up on the true nature of the feelings I’d been having. For some reason, that snowcat awakened my ability,” she said pointing the stick at Brida, who seemed unconcerned about the entire conversation.

  “So this girl did it, huh?” Ryn asked, rubbing Brida’s head. She purred loudly.

  “I suppose so. Even after we met, I denied what I was feeling out of fear. Do you know what they do to people who aren’t normal in Tregaron?”

  “I know what they do to halflings. If it’s anything like that, I imagine it’s a horrendous situation to find oneself in. I can see why you’d not want to foster that side of you. But look now,” Ryn said waving his arms wide. “You’re here and no one can harm you. I’ll be watching and so will she.” Ryn patted Brida’s back, the snowcat rolling onto her side and pawing at the air.

  Alushia giggled. “I do have that, don’t I?”

  “It’s gonna be dark in a few hours. I’ll go find something to eat. You two stay here. When I get back, we’ll have roast…something.” Ryn stood, dusted off his dark brown pants, and disappeared into the thick brush around them.

  One of the things Alushia was thankful for when traveling with Ryn, other than his stunning looks, was his ability to hunt for food every day and prepare a hot meal. He hunted better than Brida, which shocked her. He had an uncanny ability to find small hares and other animals. With Brida at her side, she didn’t worry about unsuspecting visitors. Besides, Ryn didn’t go too far and he’d be back if they needed him.

  As she waited for him to return, she worried herself about her father. Are they too late? Too much time had passed since the incident and her father was in bad shape the last she saw him. Jor’s sword thrust through him brought back anger she’d pushed deep down inside. Why did his longtime friend turn on him? Was she a pawn of Myrthyd’s? How could she do that to her father?

  If Ryn’s injuries had healed enough, they’d finally be able to fly away and join them in the Dragon Lands. She had no doubt she’d be accepted there, but what would she find? How would her father handle knowing that Etain was a dragon all along?

  No matter the reason for her mother’s deception, she was determined to find the answers, and hopefully before it was too late for her father.

  Five

  Three days after Jor and the slayers debated the merits of dragons, they traveled the most dangerous paths they’d yet encountered and were dropping from the snowy peaks into lush valleys. The western winds blew strong, but they were warm and welcoming. Jor had considered traveling across the sea, but they wanted to avoid detection and took the more dangerous path.

  “I can’t believe this. What a marvelous place!” Belthos said. He stepped to the edge of the pass and looked out over the green before them.

  Ori stood next to him. “Looks inviting, doesn’t it? I suspect we’ll have plenty of food to eat down there!”

  Belthos waved his hands and Jor felt a warmth spread over her. He’d grown accustomed to keeping the group warm through the mountains, weaving spells over them. It was unusual to not see the stone around his neck glowing.

  “We should be there by nightfall. If my memory serves me right, the land of dragons is beyond this forest. They live in caves near the sea, protected from dangers like us. We’ll see how protected they really are,” Jor said. The culmination of over three months in the mountains with day after day of bitter cold and stinging snow wore on her, and all she could think about during their lonely journey was revenge. Revenge on the monsters that caused all her problems. The monsters that killed Darlonn, caused the rise of Myrthyd, and stole her friend Lailoken. They were all to blame and she’d gut every last one of them and give the Order more than enough blood to play in.

  Most of the day was spent weaving their way down the mountain along dangerously narrow passes.

  “Whoa,” Tozgan said, whirling his arms and trying to regain his balance. Jor yanked him back from the ledge by his heavy coat.

  “Be careful! One misstep and you end up down there. Dead,” she said, pointing at the valley below.

  “Thanks. I’m quite aware of how my body would react to that!” He grinned back at her. “But thanks for not letting me go.”

  She waved a hand at him, dismissing his comment and continued down toward the warmth of the valley below.

  Winds swirled and echoed, the harsh rock faces surrounding them offering no comfort.

  “My arm for a mug of ale,” Ori mumbled.

  Jor laughed. “I hope it doesn’t come to that. I need your arm. Actually, both of them. Crossbows don’t pull themselves!”r />
  “Maybe I can help?” Belthos offered. “I’ve not shot one before, but I’ve watched you two. I’m sure I can learn.”

  “Not every little whelp can use one of these,” Tozgan said, nodding at the crossbow strapped to his back. “It takes more than will. Maybe one day I can teach ya. Might come in handy where we’re going.”

  “I’m up for it. If I were still a Magus, my vows would prohibit me. But since I no longer follow the Order--”

  “A Magus shooting a crossbow? To what…kill a dragon? Ha!” Jor cried out. “You may not be a Magus in name, but you’re every bit the same. They don’t kill dragons. They don’t even help. I’ve never seen it in my lifetime and I don’t expect to now. Leave it up to us. We’ve got the experience. You just keep working on your healing. That will help.”

  She turned to the former Magus, the boy who seemed to spring up over their time together and was now taller than she. No matter his physical size, she still saw the scared little boy who cowered from Driano. “I know you want to do more but having you with us only helps us stay together. You’ve done a lot already.”

  The boy blushed, the wind whipping his longer hair about his face. “Thanks, Jor. I want to do more. I know I can do more.”

  “If you two are done over there, you might want to look up,” Tozgan said, directing their eyes skyward.

  To the west, a cluster of five griffons danced in the air. They dove in and out of formation, circling around each other.

  “By Meanos, I can never get used to that sight,” Jor said. “Dragons are one thing. Halflings, too. But griffons? An unnatural mix of dragon and lion…horrific.”

  “That’s at least twenty by my count,” Belthos chimed in. “All going west.”

  “Our fate and all of Tregaron’s lay that way. We may be the only chance of stopping whatever is coming to our lands. And finding Lailoken in that is our priority. It must be. He has to be alive,” Jor said.

  The griffons wove among themselves, darting into the clouds and disappearing.

  “I can’t wait ‘til we bring one of those down. They’re so rare, no one will believe me until I show them proof,” Tozgan said.

  “After we rescue Lailoken, we can take our trophy. But until then, we remain focused. Got it?” Jor said.

  The group fell quiet. Jor shifted the pack on her back and continued down the mountain.

  Near nightfall, they were still quite a ways from their destination.

  Jor stopped near a large pine tree. “We’ll settle here for the night and finish climbing down tomorrow. The passes have been narrow, and I don’t want to lose any of you to foolish falls because we can’t see. The dragons will still be there. The griffons, too.”

  They settled on the fallen needles under the tree and spent the night free from wind and cold.

  The next morning they rose and without her normal urging, they followed Jor downwards, the expectation of finally leaving the mountains thick among them.

  Near midday, Ori felt it first.

  “Hey, what was that? Belthos, are you using your powers again?”

  “Nope. That was natural.”

  “You mean…it came from there?” Ori pointed to the increasingly green valley below. Birds flew across the sky. A lush forest stretched as far as they could see.

  “We’re nearly done with these forsaken peaks!” Ori cried.

  The group fed off his energy and they moved faster, daring the narrow ledges to let them fall.

  Close to an hour later, they were at the foot of the mountain, the rolling slope feeding them to a land overflowing with nature.

  “Has anyone ever been here before?” Tozgan asked. “I’ve been all around Tregaron, but I’ve never been beyond the mountains. Not here, anyway. I’ve been to the south—”

  “The south? What would you do there amongst the heathen dragon-lovers?” Jor asked.

  “They pay good money for northern dragon teeth and nails. The market is good there.”

  Jor shrugged. It was none of her concern. Only navigating through unchartered lands was. “We best be prepared for anything out here. If we’re close to dragon lands, this place might be teeming with them.”

  The forest in front of them stretched far like it would never end. Jor led them forward to a wide, clear path she’d spotted leading from the mountains into the forest.

  Under the canopy of the trees, the air was warmer and noisy life bustled around them.

  “By Meanos, it’s hot in here!” Tozgan said. He stopped, removed his heavy fur coat, and stuffed it into his pack. The rest followed suit, sweat glistening on their foreheads.

  “The sudden change is quite stark,” Jor said. She tossed the bag on her back and carefully led them ahead.

  After they’d gone far enough to no longer see the mountains through the trees, Jor stopped along a bubbling stream. “Fresh water that we don’t have to melt? Be still my heart!” she joked. The others chuckled, unloaded their packs, and plopped down along the bank.

  Belthos sipped from the stream. “It’s cool and hits the spot,” he said as he sat up and wiped water off his chin. “I never imagined I’d be so grateful to see flowing water like this again.”

  “Some things in life are meant to be savored. I think this qualifies,” Ori replied. He too leaned over and sipped from the stream.

  Jor leaned against a tree and closed her eyes, listening to the rushing waters. Birds sang in the treetops and the sound of small creatures darting across fallen leaves reminded her of simpler times.

  Belthos shook her from her peace.

  “We have a visitor.”

  Jor opened her eyes and followed his shaking finger.

  Stumbling in the road was a woman. Her clothes were tattered and she seemed to have some sort of injury hindering her gait. She moved slowly and without clear direction.

  “Hey, are you lost?” Jor called out. She stood, brushed off her pants, and grabbed her sword. As she approached the woman, she noticed her eyes were gray clouds and dried blood crusted in a trail down her chin.

  “Something seems wrong about this,” she said to the group. Belthos came to her side. “Do you know what this is?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t think so. She looks to be under some kind of spell.”

  Jor turned back to the slowly moving woman. “Can we help you? Are you in trouble?”

  The woman didn’t register her voice. She continued stumbling forward, her nose in the air, sniffing like a dog.

  “Wait a minute,” Belthos said, “I think…it can’t be!”

  “Speak now, boy. I don’t have time for games.”

  Ori and Tozgan had approached them, flanking the two with their crossbows at the ready.

  “I remember my ma telling me stories about people that had died, walking as though alive. Gray-souls, she called them. She used to scare us kids with the stories. I always thought it was to keep us in bed at night. Maybe it was real.”

  “I’m not one to give in to speculation and tales told to us by our parents.”

  “I think the boy is right,” Tozgan chimed in. “I heard tales of such creatures when I was in the east. The White Tower was always good for stories like this. They never did say what caused it.”

  The woman shuffled slowly toward them.

  “You mean to tell me this is a gray-soul woman? Walking? Toward us?”

  “We’re saying that considering all the other strange things happening, it’s not out of the question,” Belthos replied.

  Jor grinned. “Then I guess she won’t feel this.” She approached the woman, confident it was a trick.

  As she stepped closer to the woman, she could smell an offensive stench like a decayed body. Jor stopped and turned back to the group. “I think…” she started. “I think you might be right.”

  She turned back to the woman. Her dead eyes sealed it for her. If this was a trick, she’d not be duped. Jor ran forward and raised her sword.

  The woman didn’t flinch. She walked like nothing was
happening. Then, her head whipped toward Jor, her nose frantically sniffed the air. The woman grunted, then growled. Her mouth opened in a black, rotten chasm. Her body convulsed and she took an awkward turn, contorting her gray body in Jor’s direction.

  “Watch out! Don’t let her bite you!” Belthos called.

  Jor felt his magic cover her, his instinct to protect her against any danger.

  Two iron bolts screamed past her, sinking into the woman’s legs. She stumbled and fell, yet still she reached for Jor, her mouth chomping as if to bite her.

  Jor swung the sword and lopped her head clean off her shoulders. It rolled to a stop against a tree. The body shuddered and went motionless. No blood flowed from the wound. Jor approached carefully and the stench grew more intense. She crouched and peered at the stump of a neck.

  The three men approached her, standing to either side of her.

  “We’re in a dangerous place,” she said. “Nothing does that. She truly was dead but walked as though alive. Whatever sorcery that did this is evil. These dragons must be more powerful than we ever imagined.”

  Six

  Lailoken barely touched the food brought to him though his body screamed for it. They’d kept him alive during his recovery but he had no idea how they nourished him. His body was weak and he felt like he hadn’t eaten a thing in a long, long time.

  It was two days after Etain revealed she was a dragon. He refused to speak to her since, shunning food and conversation with the exception of a tiny bite of roasted mutton. The savory scent was too much to resist, and after a couple bites, he forced himself to stop. He’d not dine with dragons.

  “Lailoken, I’ve brought bread for you. My dear, you must eat. Your body is still recovering. It took a great amount of healing to bring you back.”

  Lailoken sat at the edge of the cave overlooking the ocean below. The sun blazed high and the gulls below cried loudly. Waves crashed on the beach and rolled back out to an uncertain sea.

  Etain stood behind him and he refused to acknowledge her existence.

  “I’ll leave it here. I understand you’re angry with me, and you have every right to be. I allowed my emotions to guide me. I fell in love with you. Your heart is good. I don’t expect you to forgive me, but I am sorry for what I’ve done. I’m sorry for what I’ve done to our children.”