Quest Of The Dragon Tamer (Book 1) (7 page)

Something in the man’s cerebrum caught the light. Markum’s stomach twisted as he leaned closer. It was a needle, so thin it was barely visible. Markum slid it out only to find two more needles beside it.

For a thorn will go unnoticed by those who reap destruction on the masses and permeate the Lands
.

A shadow fell over him. Markum froze, needle in hand, realizing he may never see his prince to show him what he had found. This was the end of the line. He had been discovered.

But when he turned it wasn’t a Crape soldier who greeted him; it was Ramie and Fraul.

Ramie stared at the man’s split skull before his eyes drifted to the needle in Markum’s hand.

- - -

It was a known fact dragons had an inner mode of communication, but as Ren held the dragon hunter down he grew nervous. Had the golden dragon he had helped before spread his scent to the silver? Although his instincts were usually correct, this time his life hung in the balance.

As the silver drew a deep breath, for a split second Ren thought his instincts had failed him; but when he heard the deafening blast he knew the fiery wrath had missed him.

Ren turned to find the dragon watching him with a twinge of annoyance. Its tail lashed back and forth, knocking pieces of the pulley in the air. Ren slowly rose to his feet, the dragon hunter with him. When the man reached for the lance Ren blocked him. The man hesitated before backing away.

People too terrified to move had cowered under wagons and taken cover in the trees. The dragon hunters had retreated, but many were nocking their arrows.

Ren’s eyes sought Aidan. She crouched between the hunters and the dragon, back once again bleeding from her morning torment. Ren took a quick appraisal, seeing again what he already knew in his heart. Aidan was trapped. The dragon blocked all paths of her escape, and if it breathed its fiery wrath at the hunters Aidan would be charred.

The bows were nocked and ready but the dragon had already seen them. Now it was a race against time. The dragon reared back. The dragon hunters took aim.

A sword lay discarded a short distance away. Ren lunged for it just before the dragon spewed fire and landed between the dragon and Aidan. The silver beast bellowed a warning.

Ren grabbed the nearest hunter’s bow, hampering his aim. A few stray arrows shot past, well out of range. One of the dragon hunters shoved past Ren and fell to his knees, arrow aimed at the dragon’s chest. Aidan stumbled forward to stop the soldier but one of the hunters circled his whip around her throat, dragging her back.

Dragon’s fire enveloped the kneeling hunter but the man had already let the tainted arrow fly. It embedded deep in the dragon’s chest. The dragon screamed to the dawn.

Aidan fell to her knees, trying to pull the whip from her throat. Ren brought his sword down, severing the whip and some of her captor’s fingers.

“Are you all right?” Ren asked, kneeling beside her.

She nodded in his shoulder. Her eyes found his. “Hurry.”

Ren spun, desperate to reach the arrow. It only took one arrow to weaken a golden dragon. The silver was much larger, so it would take two or three, but Ren couldn’t delay. The silver needed to escape. Even if Ista knew nothing about the dragon’s ability to awaken the red crystal, Ren wanted the sire far away from Stardom. As he took a few steps forward and lifted his hand to call to the arrow, the dragon turned and focused its uncanny blue eyes on Ren.

Ren thought he saw an understanding flicker in the silver’s gaze, a human understanding. Before he could decipher the change, a shrill scream shattered the air. It was a cry so piercing not even the wails of the dead could compare.

Aidan careened to the ground. No soldier touched her, no wound was on her, but death was in her eyes. Then everything became still. Not even the dragon moved. The air became thicker. Ren dropped to his knees and lifted Aidan’s body in his arms. Her eyes fluttered open. “Something hurts.”

“Aidan? What is it? Tell me what is happening.”

Aidan shook her head. “Ren, please … ” She brought her hand to his face and brushed his lips. “Please.” A fiery desperation lit her eyes, matching the one churning deep in his soul. For a heartbeat he doubted his instincts, doubted the spark in her eyes, but when she whispered his name again he closed the distance and met her lips.

“Blind faith,” she whispered just before her hand rolled limply to the ground.

Ren screamed her name, but Aidan didn’t respond. Her head rolled to the side and her arms went slack. A dusty light hovered above her. It trembled before it slowly began to move. When it touched him a warmth shivered through him. It felt like her smile, the way he felt when he looked into her eyes.

Somehow the light was linked to her. The light was stripping her spirit, taking her from him. He prayed for it to change direction. The dragon roared in pain as the light brushed its silver skin.

Ren suddenly understood. Someone was transferring Aidan’s spirit inside the dragon. Someone was using magic.

He remembered Aidan’s words. He had the broken thread.

He closed his eyes and felt it inside him, churning with anticipation. It was a strength he had drawn from since he was a child yet something he had never fully known. It was a heat, a light, a fire of conviction, and for the first time in his life he held nothing back. He breathed it in, welcoming it to unleash the fury of his emotions. He felt the Quy flood inside him.

The earth rocked beneath his feet. People screamed in terror, but he didn’t hear them. His mind was focused, sure. Finding the dusty light, he commanded it return. Aidan’s spirit drifted toward him, but as soon it moved her silent scream tore through the air. He felt her pain. She was already merging with the dragon. If he forced her back she would be torn apart.

His hopes crumbled. The dragon bellowed as more of Aidan’s spirit seeped through its skin. Ren whispered for her forgiveness. Her spirit would be lost inside the dragon, engulfed in the dragon’s essence. Although her spirit would live she wouldn’t remember. Without her body she would become the dragon. The dragon would be too strong for her to resist.

But if her body went with her …

Ren looked down at Aidan’s limp form. Her hair spilled over his arms in an auburn waterfall. Her eyes were shut as if in sleep. He brought his emotions to the surface and cultivated them to flame. His pain came first, burning hot, blazing through him with angry precision. Then came hate, black as night, incessant and demanding. Then came love, rising through him like a tidal wave: fast, sure, furious.

The emotions roared inside him, swelling with force.

He focused on the light in his mind. He breathed it in, letting it fill him to the point of pain, and slowly began weaving her body in the air, memorizing her shape, her essence. Within a few breaths he had created almost a blanket of her form. It moved above him like a specter before it began seeping inside the silver creature, joining with her spirit, keeping her whole.

As the last of her essence left him Ren fell to the ground. Who had done this? The ground shook with violent pulses, but he rose without pause. Onlookers screamed and stumbled away, but the dragon had yet to move. It watched him with an inexplicable perception. Its eyes were slightly clouded, as if the dragon were a twin listening to its other half.

Everything around Ren was vivid, clear, but the screams behind him were far away. His mind throbbed as the Quy’s thread pulsed with his heartbeat and tingled through his body with a vibrant intensity. Where before he felt determination and love, now he felt rage – intense rage. It burned to be released. Someone near him emanated the residue of the power. He saw it in the air: a fine trail of conjuring particles, vibrating more violently than the surrounding atmosphere. The trail led to a downstairs window.

Nothing existed but his target and his rage. He held onto the rage, stroked it, and intensified it. The window shattered at his command. Valor and a deformed woman stood in front of the broken shards of glass. The woman’s hideous features were reforming into a guise she had worn since she arrived at Stardom.

“Release her.”

Ista smiled. “Never.”

Ren gripped his sword and started for the window. Valor shouted for his guards. As Ren broke through the remaining glass he shoved Valor aside and pushed Ista against the wall.

“Tell me how to release her,” he said.

“Tell me the secret of the crystal.”

Ren pressed the sword to her throat, drawing a thin stream of blood. The shouts of soldiers echoed down the hall.

Valor regained his footing and drew his dagger.

Ista smiled. “Join me, Ren. I can clear your name.”

“Never.”

“Pity,” Ista said. “Aidan will never again be whole.”

Two of Valor’s guards grabbed Ren from behind. One guard hit him in the stomach as another beat his hand against the wall, trying to force him to release the sword. Ren kicked the man in the groin, knocking him backward. The man let go, but the other was already there.

“Take him!” Valor demanded.

The dragon roared in fury.

Ren grabbed the thread of light in his mind as his rage built. A sharp crack sounded as he released the Quy with whip-like ferocity. The guards holding him flew backward through the air. Out of the corner of his eye Ren saw a Crape soldier beating Quinton to the ground and another hauling Michel to his feet.

Guards from all over the Lands ran toward the window with bloodied swords, intent on his capture. Without warning, dragon’s fire enveloped them. The dragon bellowed a final warning and took to the air.

Ren stumbled toward the window, desperate to reach Aidan, but she was already gone. The peace of their connection immediately scattered. In its place was a hollow void. The shock of it almost brought him to his knees.

Shouts were all around him: cries from men who fought to protect him, screams from guards to capture him. When Ren finally turned to face Valor, the new king of Newlan had victory in his eyes.

Ista stepped forward, crystal in hand. The sunlight caressed it, igniting it in crimson flame. Ista picked up a small glass bottle and hurled it to the floor. A hissing red smoke oozed out and reached for Ren.

Ren did the only thing he could do – he ran.

Screams came from behind. Whatever evil the bottle contained was affecting Ista’s men.

Ren quickly turned down a hall that concealed an entrance to a hidden passageway in a side closet. He didn’t see any guards, but he could hear them approaching. He stumbled to the door. Just as his hand touched the knob, his cousin, Paul of Ketes, rounded the corner.

Paul’s fierce dark eyes found Ren and motioned him inside. Ren nodded his thanks and dove through the door, fumbling for the gnarled wood in the back. He heard Paul scream as steel hit steel.

Ren whispered a silent thanks to his cousin as his fingers twisted the gnarled knot of wood. Heartbeats later he was in the dark bowels of the tunnels, turning corners by memory, making his way to the lower depths of the castle – to the dungeon.

Chapter 4

Fraul grabbed Ramie’s arm and silently ordered him to stand back, but Ramie remained rooted to the earth. The girl in Ren’s arms looked dead, but she had been fine heartbeats ago. Just as Ramie was about to voice his concern a riveting pain seared his mind.

A scream tore from his lips. It was a foreign sound, something he hadn’t heard since he was a child, but it was quickly swept away and lost among hundreds of other cries. As his knees buckled, Fraul grabbed him and hauled him to his feet.

“Stay up! Don’t let them know you have it! Be strong!”

Ramie found his footing, but his mind seemed to be incinerating inside him. He dug his fingernails into his fists and thought of his brother. Nothing could hurt him more than his brother. The emotional scar immediately swept to the surface and he sensed the difference between the two afflictions. One was so painful he thought he might die, the other so painful he did not want to live. But they neutralized each other, and soon the pain subsided into something he could bear.

When Ramie regained his composure he opened his eyes to total confusion. Multitudes were on their knees, clasping their heads with anguished faces. Others ran to the gates, desperate for a quick escape. Guards from all over the lands hurried toward the castle, others fought the throng, and others, many of whom were Ren’s guard, were sprawled in their own blood.

Trumpets blared as Valor walked out on the stone balcony above the courtyard. A few murmurs started. Fraul pushed Ramie back until they were at the outskirts of the crowd. Fraul’s grip tightened on Ramie’s arm as Valor’s gaze swept the assemblage.

“Lords and Ladies,” Valor said. “What you have just felt was magic being reborn. As some of you know, I’m of the order of the Collective. We knew this day would come. Today we have been proven right. Each of you now has a choice. You may join us or to join the one who opposes us - Ren Razon.”

Valor turned and held out his hand to the open balcony doors. A wrinkled hand caught hold of Valor’s and a horribly deformed woman emerged from the shadows.

She was rail-thin, with long black patches of hair reaching her waist. Her piercing green eyes had almost sunk to her nose, or what was left of her nose. Two small fissures formed it, and no bridge or bone remained.

Breaths caught and a few women shrieked in terror. The deformed lady seemed to grow even more hideous as her smile withered. Heartbeats later the air around her wavered. As the magic worked she became a beautiful woman with straight jet-black hair and green eyes that scanned the crowd with both sorrow and authority. Multiple gasps filtered through the throng.

“I’m sorry to frighten you, my children,” Ista said, her voice a sweet titillation, “but I wanted you to see me for who I truly am instead of who I once was. My name is Ista Deus and I’m a sorceress from the Alcazar.” She paused as a wave of excited exclamations filtered through the throng. She took another step forward and placed long slender hands on the marble railing, stilling the crowd to silence.

“When magic was destroyed I thought I would die with the rest, but miraculously my life was spared. As a young girl a fall cracked my skull, and the healer had to insert a metal plate to aid in reconstruction. Although the plate blocked the deadly effects of wizard’s destruction, enough of it caught me to melt the plate and change my form. The fire that destroyed the Alcazar did the rest.”