Dragon Bonds (Return of the Darkening Series Book 3) (15 page)

I heard a shuffle of boots on the dirt and then Beris said, “Do you want to die?”

Thea’s hand tightened on my arm, and I thought she was talking more to me than to Beris. “This is our chance to find out more about
it
—about where its camp is, about how powerful it is. And maybe it will lead us to the King’s Dragon Stone.”

“You felt what its mere presence did to us! To the dragons!” Beris’ voice dropped lower. “And it wasn’t even trying to use its magic against us! How do you think we were caught? It can freeze your soul and you just stand there, unable to do a thing. If the Darkening turns its full force on you, a dragon will even forget how to fly.”

“I think Beris is right,” Varla said. “It’s too powerful.”

Varla was right, but so was Thea. For the first time, we all pulled together—the Dragon Riders and the wild dragons. We all flew in unison. No fighting. That could give us an advantage.

Her hand tightened on my arm, and then she let go. She cleared her throat. “Right now we’re on our own—and we’re on the run. In any military strategy, that is a bad thing. What if we find the King’s Dragon Stone and have no idea how to use it? The Darkening could find us and take it from us. But if we know where the Darkening is, we’ll be able to spy on them. We’ll know where their main camp is, and we might find out what weaknesses they have. I think only one or two of us should follow. The others can keep on with the search. The two who follow the Darkening will be able to warn you if the Darkening comes after you again.”

“Or we won’t get any warning because whoever is trailing the Darkening has come under the influence of the Memory Stone,” Beris muttered.

Next to me in the darkness, I felt Thea shrug and shift on her feet. “That’ll be a warning, too.”

The cavern was silent; even the dragons seemed to be listening to our plans. Wetting my lips, I gave a nod, even though only the dragons would see it—they could see in the dark. “I don’t think this is a time for votes, but I’m with Thea. We’ll go on Kalax—she’s bigger and can fight if she has to—while the rest of you can keep on searching. You can send word through Feradima or Gaxtal if you find the King’s Dragon Stone—Kalax will hear them.”

Merik let out a long breath and said, “What about the wild dragons?”

I glanced back at them and could only see their eyes as just a gleam in the darkness.

“They’ll probably come with me.” Or not. The Darkening had frightened them and I wasn’t sure they wouldn’t try to return to the wilds.

Gravel crunched and then Varla said, her voice gruff, “Just don’t get yourself in trouble.” I heard the slap of leather as Varla must have given Thea a pat on the back or a hug. And then it was time to mount Kalax and fly. But into what?

* * *

I
t didn’t take long
for Kalax to find the Darkening and its wild dragons. She could sense them long before I could. But it felt like we were chasing a storm—they moved fast, looking like a dark smudge of wings and scales, undulating in the way wild dragons do.

I glanced back at Thea who nodded at me, her helmet in place and her mouth set.

Darkening makes them slow
, Kalax shared with me. That speed was slow?

She thought at me that the natural dragon senses of the wild dragons had to be dulled. I knew Scratch and Hiss had already smelled the other dragons. Even though we were miles away, they were acting skittish. But they had stayed with Kalax. Maybe the Darkening had to blunt the dragon senses in order to control them.

I was suddenly afraid for our two wild dragons. What if I was no better than the Darkening, using my affinity to control them?

Controlling those two?
Kalax nudged me with the thought and a wry humor. But I sensed a shadow of pride that the two wild dragons had helped us to escape and weren’t leaving. They were bonded to Kalax it seemed.

Even so, I still felt uneasy for I was doing something similar to what the Darkening was doing—I was sending commands to the two wild dragons to betray their natural instincts.

As soon as all this is over I’ll release them back to the mountains.

Seb thinks I am not free?

Kalax’s question made me sit up straighter. She had a point. If she and the wild dragons decided to do something, I wasn’t sure I could change their minds.

Behind me, Thea tapped my shoulder and pointed to where the Darkening-controlled dragons were now circling. I realized I’d been more right than I’d known to think of them as a storm. A very real, physical storm gathered in front of us.

Black clouds, thick and tall, swirled over a large, broken patch of land. Trees, shrubs and grass had been burned away by dragon fire. Mists and smoke rose from the ground. The land itself was similar to the dragon enclosure—hot water burst up from the ground, foul-smelling, bubbling mud-flats stretched out below us. So many dragons were gathered that every other animal— birds and small game—had been either eaten or driven away.

As we got closer, I could see dark tents made of heavy, purple cloth on the edges of the mud flats and bubbling springs. It looked a lot like King Justin’s camp, but it was far bigger. Around the edges of the camp—where Dragon Riders in a camp would hang their washing and dry uniforms—there hung not clothes, but meat from kills. Food for soldier or dragon. All of it stank.

I urged Kalax down to the rocky gorges to the south of the Darkening’s army. That would put us downwind and there were huge reddish boulders and land marked by colors that would easily hide Kalax. The wild dragons with us headed for a cave higher in the hills to the south—I couldn’t blame them. That seemed a good idea. But we needed to find out a little more about Lord Vincent’s forces.

Kalax settled silently onto the rocky ground. I slipped out of the saddle, but Thea was already on the ground with one of the long, extending optics to magnify the camp that lay in the distance.

Dragons!

Kalax didn’t have to tell me that. About two-thirds of the dragons I could see were wild, black dragons. But Thea gave me the tellyscup and I saw greens and blues in the camp, hunched and looking unhappy.

But no crimson reds
.

No,
I reassured Kalax.
None like you.

A few, new dragon colors stood out—burnt orange, sunburst yellow and even a few speckled dragons. They were smaller than our dragons, but not as small or fiercely spiked as the blacks.

“Southern dragons?” Thea breathed the words.

I nodded. “They must be. I fear for Commander Hegarty and Instructor Mordecai now.”

“Uh, Seb? Look!” Thea tapped my arm and pointed to the north edge of the camp.

A dragon had lifted its head and spread it wings. It had grown huge, with rolls of scales that glimmered in the sunlight. The dragon next to it had six wings. Still another had not just one angered head, but two, and both snapped and hissed at each other. I shuddered. We had seen this before with the Darkening—dragons turned by magic into monsters.

They were all wrong—they’d been twisted by the Darkening. I could feel Kalax’s intense hatred for such things, as well as her fear. But I wondered if the people under Lord Vincent would also become warped and strange?

How were we ever to fight such a monstrous, hideous army?

Thea pulled on my sleeve. “We’ve found out everything that we can from here. Let us be away to where the blacks are hiding. We need some distance from this foul place.”

I nodded and we started back to Kalax, who suddenly stiffened.

She was alarmed by something, but she hadn’t seen or smelled an enemy coming. Neither had I.

The figures burst out from the rocks around us.

Somehow—impossibly—they had snuck up on us. Holding their long spears pointed toward us, they eyed Kalax warily.

My heart sank. Wildmen. They wore cured leather armor, crudely stitched together with pieces of bone and fur. They didn’t seem to be as warlike as others we’d run across. They weren’t covered in the black paint of Lord Vincent’s troops.

Kill them?

Kalax’s thoughts hit me, deadly and ferocious. But I didn’t want her hurt by those long spears. Was there another way out of this?

“Seb?” Thea said the word low, and I could see she had tensed and already had her hand on the hilt of her sword. But then she moved her hand away and spread out her empty palms.

Was she crazy?

“Seb…hold,” Thea said, her voice low and fierce.

Watching as one of the Wildmen took a step closer, I shook my head. That one was almost in range to thrust a spear straight at Kalax.

I felt Kalax echo my own growl with a rumble.

Next to me, Thea said, “Stop it. Both of you. It’s not the time to fight. Yet.”

S
ometimes I wondered
if Seb and I might have swapped places. It seemed obvious to me that no one here needed to fight. But Seb and Kalax wanted to attack. That was supposed to be my job.

But these Wildmen could have killed us at once or called Lord Vincent’s army down on us. And they hadn’t. Couldn’t Seb and Kalax see that?

Muttering between clenched teeth, I said, “Seb, if you or Kalax attack, we all die!”

Seb had fisted his hands and I could see his knuckles whitening. “Looks like we’re all going to die anyway.”

I had to make a decision. The Wildmen looked very different from the ones I’d fought in Torvald. Of course, they could still be in the service of Lord Vincent, but they didn’t have the manic stare of those under the control of the Memory Stone. They also wore slightly different clothing, and they looked a little scared.

Maybe it was my protector’s training that let me see them as they were, or maybe Seb was so entwined with Kalax that he had picked up on Kalax’s view that different meant a threat. I was trained to make quick judgments and I knew a fight I could win and what was a bad idea.

The Wildmen held their spears close, in defensive positions. They were exchanging nervous looks with each other in the way men and women did when none of them had command and they weren’t really sure about the situation.

And they’re being quiet, with the occasional glance past us, toward the enemy camp.

“Friends,” I said and spread my hands even wider. Spear tips shifted in my direction.

“Thea,” Seb warned, his voice low. Kalax raised her neck, getting dragon fire ready to spit.

“No, Kalax, Seb!” I held up a hand to them, and then pointed to Lord Vincent’s camp. “We are not with them. They are our enemy.”

A woman in the front with a tooth necklace called out with a thick, guttural accent, “Step forward, Dragon Rider, if you really mean us no harm!”

Well, here goes everything.

I walked toward her. The spear point shifted away as I approached. I stopped facing the tall, blonde woman who had spoken. She had painted her cheeks with green, making lines across her nose. She wore the same leather and hides as the others, but the tooth necklace and a thick, fur collar made her stand out.

She glanced at me, looking me up and down. “You carry weapons like our enemy carries.” The woman scowled, pointing at the short sword on my hip.

I held her gaze. “What sort of fool would I be to walk this world as it is without some form of protection?”

The woman—who had to be some sort of chieftain or leader—laughed. I couldn’t tell if she was laughing at me or if she really thought I’d told a good joke. “And what can you do with that little pig-sticker?”

Resting one hand on the hilt, I said, “You can try me and find out.” I waved a hand at Kalax. “But my dragon might have something to say about that, too. She is not an enemy you want to make.”

The woman scowled once more, her brown eyes darkening. “Dragons like yours come to our enemy.”

A grumbling spread through the other Wildmen, but the women held up a hand and they fell silent again.

Behind me, Seb muttered, “Thea, be careful.”

Ignoring him, I asked, “Do you really see any other red dragons?”

The woman’s eyes narrowed.

This was going to get tricky.

My heart thudded into my ribs and sweat slicked my palms. I nodded back to the Darkening’s camp. “If you wish to have a battle, we will fight. When the Darkening’s forces come to see what this is all about, we will all die. Why not take this elsewhere and we can talk.”

“That could be a trick. More lies of the Ghoul!” The woman spat on the ground.

I shrugged and licked my lips. “My fellow rider, our dragon and I will be leaving now.” I took a step back.

She must notice the same thing we’d seen in them—no sign of forgetfulness, clumsiness, hypnotism. No sign of being under the control of the Memory Stone.

Turning,
I walked to Kalax. Behind me, I could hear the creak of leather as the Wildmen shifted.

The woman spoke up again, low and slow. “You are brave, lady rider. I can respect courage and a sharp tongue.”

Seb was frowning at me, but I paused, then turned to look her in the eye. “You have to be brave if you want to ride dragons.”

Her stare moved from me to Kalax, who huffed out a hot breath. She lowered the tip of her spear and gave me a crooked smile. “True enough. Come with us. I am called Thorri. We will share meat and talk of revenge against the Ghoul.”

Seb leaned closer to me. “I think she means Lord Vincent.”

I nodded. I also didn’t like the idea of just me and Seb sitting down with the Wildmen. I wanted to show them there was more than just the two of us. And I knew Kalax could find where the others were camped. Chin lifted, I said, “There are others of our number with us.”

Thorri frowned. One of the other Wildmen said something to her, but I couldn’t hear what. She slashed the air with a hand and silenced him. “Good. Lead the way. We will follow.”

“Done.” I nodded before clambering up onto Kalax’s broad shoulder.

Seb mounted into his saddle and asked, “What did you do? You’re taking Wildmen to the others?”

I grinned. “You wanted allies, right? Let’s show them how a real dragon flies.”

Of course, Kalax knew better. She lifted into the air, but flew low to the ground to avoid attracting the attention of the Darkening. I was just glad to get away from that horrible stench—and I wasn’t really sure the Wildmen would follow.

* * *

K
alax found where Beris
, Syl, Varla and Merik had camped. They’d found a spot in a small valley where they were tucked away. We had time enough to warn them that a contingent of Wildmen was coming. Syl jumped up, Beris reached for his sword, and Varla stared at me, her mouth hanging open.

I held up a hand. “It’s going to be all right. They can help us.”

“Into an early grave,” Beris muttered.

I shook my head. “These are not like the Wildmen who have been fighting for Lord Vincent. They’re just people who look angry that their families have been killed or captured. We all know what that feels like. The least we can do is talk.”

No one looked happy with that idea, but Seb said, “We’ll have our dragons for help if we need it.” The blacks had followed us back to camp, and now they were perched in the cliffs above us. I liked that—they would give us a warning if any of the Darkening appeared.

By the time the Wildmen arrived, Varla and Merik had a fire and a meal cooking.

The Wildmen came into camp as quietly as they had come upon us earlier, but their dark skins looked sweaty and they were breathing hard as if they’d been running. They stayed close to each other, eyeing us.

I was pretty sure they wouldn’t suddenly decide to attack us—they weren’t in fighting stances.

Thorri stepped forward and started ordering her people around. She sent some to hunt rabbit for more meat, and some to get water from a nearby stream, and some to find more wood and some to see if fish could be had. Kalax lifted her head at that.

Slowly, the others started to relax. So did I. And so did the Wildmen. The meal helped. The Wildmen ate all of Merik’s stew and he had to make more. They brought back rabbits they’d hunted, fish, and even a deer. After we’d all eaten as much as we could, the Wildmen entertained everyone by throwing bits of meat for the dragons to catch. Gaxtal was the only dragon who wouldn’t play that game—he turned and left the Wildmen looking at his back and his tail, which twitched like that of an irritated cat.

And they seemed to know how to get along with the wild dragons. The Wildmen made a game of throwing bones and fish into the air for the black dragons to catch. It was clear they knew these black dragons well.

“Much bigger, your dragons,” Thorri said, sitting down again by the campfire.

Seb leaned forward, his elbows braced on his thighs. “Do you ever ride dragons?”

“Seb?” Beris growled the word under his breath, scowling at the gigantic, bearded Wildman who sat next to him. “Do we really care?”

Seb pulled a face at him and turned back to Thorri. “Do you ride dragons?”

She shook her head. “You mean how you from the Middle Kingdom do?” She couldn’t keep the sneer from her voice. Others of the Wildmen nearest to her gave low chuckles, and she said, “If any rode a black dragon—well, you could raise one from the egg and still have it bite off your arm as soon as look at you!” The Wildmen around us grinned at that.

Merik stood and said, “I’m going to check on the dragons.” Varla stood and went with him. “We mean no offence,” Thorri said with a grin and a shrug. “We just do things differently in the mountains.”

The huge Wildman next to Beris said, “Those who manage to take an egg to their lodge and raise it may learn how to hunt with the dragons, but it is rare. Only a few are blood-tied to the dragons.”

“Blood-tied. The Dragon Affinity,” Seb said, the words only a whisper.

Beris gave a snort, stood and tapped Syl’s arm. “We should help Varla and Merik.”

Thorri glanced up at him and waved him to sit down. The huge Wildman next to Beris grabbed Beris’ arm and pulled him back down on the log where Beris had been sitting. Thorri grinned and said, “Now we have eaten, it is time to share stories. This is a good thing. Some of our people have the old blood of the dragon family through their veins. But the black dragons, they are as wild as the wind and that is a good thing. Now, what stories do you know?”

I glanced at Thea. She looked back and shrugged. Varla had heard the mention of stories and had drifted back to the campfire.

“Come, Lady of the dragon flames,” Thorri said, raising a skin of their strong mead. “You must have good stories of battle or of days gone by. Of your great king, the First Rider. You must know of him, for all the world does.”

Varla edged up to my side, bent down and said, “The First Rider! Torvald—they know of him.”

I waved at Varla to be quiet and said, “Thorri, it is strange to hear you speak of one of our kings. What do you know of King Torvald?”

I thought the question would be a good test. Did she really know that King Torvald—the first king of our kingdom—was also the First Rider?

Thorri stared at me, her dark eyes wide. She still wore the green paint on her face and in the firelight, it made her face seem strange and almost more like a dragon’s narrow visage. “How could we not know of the First Rider? He lived with the old ones, the wise magicians. He had dragon blood in him. He freed the Wildmen from the Ghoul many long years ago, sharing with us some of his power so we might still hear dragons talk.” She spoke as if explaining a well-known story to a child.

I rubbed my nose. “We have a few…different tales,” I said. The truth was that the
old tales I’d heard recounted how the First Rider had fought against the Wildmen. “But I would like to hear your stories.”

Varla squeezed in next to me and said, her voice eager, “Yes, please. I…well, I love a good story. It’s going to be revealing to hear the story of our greatest king from another point of view.”

Thorri glanced at Varla as if she wasn’t sure about that, but she nodded and said, “You have asked for the story and so I shall tell you.”

She stood up, raising her hand. All the Wildmen quieted and turned toward her. They obviously took story telling very seriously. Even the dragons seemed to want to hear this.

Voice low and melodic, Thorri began to talk. “Long ago, a pale man came to the north, to the Wildmen’s village. The shamans and the wise ones could tell at once this was a ghoul in human form. His skin was too pale for him to have a real heart. His hair and eyes were blacker than the darkest night. But his words were fine and he brought with him gifts and great promises. The young did not want to hear the words of the wise—they wanted those gifts and they wanted the power promised. And such is always the way of the world.”

A soft murmur went up from the Wildmen. I glanced around the campfire and saw they were all gathered close now, listening intently.

Thorri nodded and started to talk again.

“The Ghoul seduced our people with words. He said he would give us more land to hunt, rich houses and fine furs to wear. We would never know cold or hunger in any winter. All we must do is share what we knew of the wild, black dragons. It seemed too easy—too simple. But most did not want to think on such things. They were too ready to share all we knew. And when tales stirred of a strange sickness falling on others, of how people in the mountains and how the elders and the shaman were forgetting their families or were falling mad, it was said that was just what those who spoke out against the Ghoul deserved.

“And so the Ghoul learned to command the wild dragons, but they grew terrible. Strange and horrible dragons hatched, ones with no wings, others with many heads and some so huge as to blot out the sun.

“Soon, those who had welcomed the Ghoul began to fear. But the Ghoul said he was a prince and held the right to all the realms. It did not matter now if the Wildmen wanted to follow or not—we had to!