In the Shadow of the Dragon King (21 page)

The hand of agonizing torture released his neck. Jared backed away. His words echoed in David’s frazzled brain. “It is done. He is sealed.”

Charlotte groaned and turned onto her side. For a moment, she hung poised on her hands and knees. “What—do you mean—he’s sealed? What’s done? What did you do to him?”

Looking shaken, she got to her feet and inched toward David.

Jared flexed his hand. “I sealed his destiny. He is now bound to this world as he is to his own. Everything he does from this point forward will affect both this world and his own. Every decision, every risk, every alliance he seeks, every friendship he tests will have a ripple effect.” He planted his eyes on David. “Choose wisely. Most chances only come once in Fallhollow.”

David shook his head, his body still in spasms from the pain. “What does that mean?” He pressed his eyes shut for a moment, trying to find his center, his thoughts, his mind. Heavy footsteps thudded around him. He looked up to see Trog staring at him as if thoroughly amused. The knight offered his hand. David took it and rose to his feet. He wobbled and grasped the table to keep from falling over. His gaze met Jared’s once more, and he repeated his question.

The magic man uttered a scornful sound and turned to his daughter. “Explain things to him, won’t you? My purpose here is done. I must return to the WindSong and ready its sails.”

David sat down, his limbs trembling. “But—”

Slavandria flicked him a quick glance and linked her arm around her father’s. “I understand. Please give Mangus my love and prayers for a speedy recovery.”

Jared’s eyes darkened, eying her with the look of a wild, angry beast about to attack. “Do not play innocent with me, Daughter. He told me of your escapades in Avaleen.”

“Father, I—”

“You blatantly defied me!” His booming voice shook the universe. “I am tired of your flagrant disregard of the rules and abuse of your title. Disobey me again and you’ll find yourself sitting alongside Master Camden in Eisig.”

Slavandria laughed. “You don’t mean that, Father.”

Jared held up his index finger, his eyes dark. “Do not test me. I am no longer amused by your games.”

Slavandria straightened and lifted her chin. “I suppose that leaves us at an impasse, Father. You do what you must, and so shall I.”

Jared studied his daughter then growled. He flicked a glance at Trog. “I trust you will take care of your own troubles and leave my daughter out of your affairs.”

Trog inclined his head. “I will do what I can.”

The two men shared a long gaze, then, with a single nod and a crack like a whip, Jared vanished.

David’s heart raced, his blood pumping too fast and too hard. “What did he do to me?”

Slavandria gathered her lavender hair over one shoulder. “He completed the dorna—a very special blessing only he can give. I’ll explain while we eat. I hope you’re hungry.”

Trog piled his plate with food. David watched the man eat, his gaze caught on a cluster of seven visible white scars along the knight’s jaw line, each of them about two inches long.

Trog licked his fingers and dropped a clean bone on his plate. “It’s impolite to gawk. If you have a question, ask. I won’t bite you.”

David rested his arms on the table’s edge. “I-I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be rude, but those scars,” he ran his thumb along his jaw, “what caused them?”

“I infuriated a dragon.” Another bone clinked onto the plate.

Charlotte frowned and knotted her hands in her lap. “Did you say dragon?”

“I did.” Trog wiped his mouth. “A Timberlake Smoothback to be exact. A fire-breather. Black as onyx dipped in liquid amethyst. He was a spawn of the underworld and wielder of the most malicious sort of black magic. He was a big one, too, a hundred or so feet long, half as tall with the eyes and tongue of a snake.”

A slight cool breeze wafted through the terrace and toyed with the dilapidated gate, tapping it several times against the post. David’s insides jumped. His heart thudded against his ribcage. An image of his parents cowering beneath a dragon appeared in his head.
No. It couldn’t be. Could it?

Trog glanced at Slavandria. “Do you wish to tell them the story or should I?”

Slavandria sipped her tea and set her cup on the table. Her glance darted from David to Charlotte and her lips turned up in a smile. “If their bewildered expressions are any indication, I’d say you have a captive audience. By all means, continue.”

Trog pinched off another quail leg and took a bite. “This dragon, his name is Einar, and he’s about as evil as they come. Legend tells us, two centuries ago, a young prince of Berg found a dragon egg in the Elastine Forest while hunting with his father. He took it to the castle, hatched it and watched it grow. When the young man could no longer provide for the dragon’s needs, Einar slaughtered him and the entire royal family.” Trog sucked the juices from his fingers and threw the bone on his plate.

“After securing the castle and the lands around it, the beast proclaimed himself the Dragon King. For years, he ruled the kingdom of Berg. All those who defied him suffered his wrath. The mages did what they could to dethrone him, but Einar’s magic was far too dark. A war broke out between the two, an ultimate battle of good against evil.”

David gulped his tea. “The Dragon War,” he said. Charlotte’s arched brow begged for an explanation. “Twiller mentioned it on the way to Chalisdawn.”

Trog nodded and reached for a pear. “After several years and much bloodshed, the mages defeated Einar and banished him beneath Lake Sturtle. The vile creature remained there until fifty years later when he escaped.”

A shiver rippled out of Charlotte. She folded her arms tight to her chest as if cold. “How did he escape?”

Trog shrugged. “No one knows. What is certain, he returned to Berg Castle, killed the young king who once lived in this manor, and reclaimed the kingdom as his own. For fifty years, he reigned. All the lands from Tulipakar to the far reaches of the Northern Forest fell under his control. Greedy, he moved on to the kingdom of Braemar and reduced it to the smoldering ruins that remain today. It was then he made a very stupid mistake.” Trog took a bite of pear and chewed.

“What mistake?” David asked.

“He went after Hirth.”

“Why?” Charlotte asked.

“The kingdom is rich beyond your wildest imagination. Crops, minerals, precious metals, it’s got them. But it’s not that kind of wealth that has Einar biting at his tail. It’s the abundance of human spirit that’s got him in a tizzy. He can’t stand humans being happy and content especially on a piece of land more valuable than any jewel he owns.” Trog leaned forward, his gestures growing more animated as he spoke. “Einar thought if he claimed or destroyed the surrounding kingdoms, he could glide right into Hirth and take it. But he misjudged its people.” He tossed the pear core on his plate and pushed it away. “They refused to live as slaves, to succumb to the beast’s tyranny. They met him on the field of battle, prepared to die as free men, and you know what?” Trog pointed his finger at David. “They won the day. Einar retreated to Berg with a wound right here,” Trog jabbed his chest with his fist, “no doubt to lick his wounds and plan his revenge. That’s when the mages wove their spell around Berg to keep him isolated, which is where he stayed until a few days ago when he escaped his confines and attacked Hirth and Gyllen Castle.”

“What set him free this time?” David wiped the sweat from his palms on his pants.

Slavandria glanced at him over her teacup. “You did.”

The words hurled into David’s chest like a cannonball. It was impossible. “How? Why?”

Slavandria hesitated for a moment. “You’re the paladin, David, the chosen guardian and champion of Fallhollow. Einar’s bane. And he wants you dead.”

A breeze sliced through the terrace carrying with it an ominous chill; its edge cut through to David’s bones.

“There must be some mistake.” He thought of the role-playing games he played online with Charlotte. He glanced at Trog. “Paladins are big and bulky. Strong, like him. I’m nothing like him, and I’m not hero material.”

“You are more remarkable than you realize,” Slavandria said. “Lily has told me of your accomplishments on the archery range, as well as your speed and agility training. I also understand you to have a keen understanding of military prowess and weaponry. Where do you think these abilities come from?”

David shrugged. “I don’t know. My dad, I guess.”

He lowered his gaze to his father’s ring.
My dad
. The word stung his core. He thought back to Lily, the letter, the tattoo, which continued to prickle, as if asleep. The discovery of the truth seemed so long ago, like a dream from another lifetime, but he had it only been a day? Two? Three? He couldn’t remember. All he knew was Lily had provided few answers. He needed them all. David looked into Slavandria’s penetrating eyes, words forming on his tongue. She spoke before he could utter one of them.

“Yes, your father is well-versed in tactical matters. His prowess and tenacity are legendary. You mother is agile, sharp-minded, and to answer your next question, yes, they are both alive, though where they are, I do not know. I haven’t heard from or spoken to them in some time.”

David gulped. The words seemed surreal. He stilled the tremble in his voice. “Why did they leave me?”

“To protect you. Your mother hoped if you were tucked away, hidden, no one would ever find you and you could live a life of luxury and peace. You would grow up without a care, fall in love and have a wonderful family. Do something altruistic. My sister, Auruvalla — Lily as you call her — agreed to care for you. Protect you. She and I worked together your entire life to make sure you never wanted for anything. We both did what we could to keep this from happening, but we can’t keep you from your destiny.” Slavandria reached for David’s hands, worry deep in her eyes. “The Dragon King must never find you, David. If he does, he will kill you.”

“Why? What did I do to him?”

“It’s not what you’ve done, David. It’s what you can do. You’re the paladin.”

“So you’ve said, but I have no idea what that means.”

“You’re a guardian, David. You are also an executioner.”

David choked on his spit. “Executioner? You’re joking, right? Do you not know anything about me? I can’t kill anything. Period.”

Slavandria stood. “I’m afraid you’re going to have to, David. It’s in your blood.”

“No it isn’t. You can’t force me to kill something I don’t want to kill, especially a dragon the size of a freaking house. Now work your magic fingers, open a portal and send Charlotte and me home.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Why not?” David hardened his jaw, ground his teeth.

“Because you’re in danger if you go home.”

“I’m in danger if I stay here.”

“True, but you have more protection here. Lily is only a force of one, David. She cannot provide the protection you have here, especially since she and I believe someone working with Einar discovered your presence in Havendale. We believe the same individual is responsible for the attacks in Fallhollow, but we have no proof.

“I’ll take my chances.”

“Even if your parents are at risk?”

The question grabbed his gut and twisted his heart. “What are you talking about?”

“Your parents left you in Havendale to protect you. Now that you are here, what are you going to do to protect them? What are you going to do to protect Charlotte?”

David chuckled and shook his head. “Oh, no. I see what you’re doing. You’re trying to put some kind of guilt trip on me. Well, it’s not going to work.”

“David, listen to me. Even if I had the power to send you back, I wouldn’t be able to until you do what is expected of you.”

“Which involves killing a dragon.”

“No. Your role is to guard and protect the realm, and there are only two beings with the power to kill the dragon.”

“And who would they be?”

“The youngest heir to the throne of Hirth, or a direct descendent of Einar’s, of which there is only one.”

“Wait. You want me to find and make friends with a killer dragon’s offspring?” David shook his head. “Are you insane?”

“David, it is imperative you find Einar’s descendant and make him your ally. With him on your side, you can rid the path of enemy forces, including the man in your dreams, and provide your ally the perfect opportunity to kill Einar.”

“And what’s going to stop this dragon offspring from killing me?”

“He won’t.”

“How do you know?”

“Let’s just say it’s a hunch I have.”

David laughed. “A hunch? You want me to risk my life and Charlotte’s on a hunch?” He flicked a quick glance at the girl he loved. “Pfft. You
are
crazy.”

“David, you need to do this.”

David scowled. “I don’t need to do anything.”

“Yes, you do, if you have any hope of returning home.”

“Are you kidding me?” David’s temper gathered. “And can I ask how you expect me to do this? With my good looks? Oh, wait. I forgot. I have a box of lightning bolts in my pocket and flamethrowers embedded in my palms.”

“This is no time for sarcasm, David,” Slavandria said.

“The hell it’s not! You’re telling me I have to fight a war that isn’t mine, kill enemies like they’re nothing more than characters in a video game, and take Charlotte with me so she can watch! How am I supposed to react?”

A very large shadow fell over David. “Young man.” Trog glared down at him, his brow drawn low. “Stop your barking and apologize for your temper.”

David angled his body away. “What? No! She—”

“You will stop your yelling and apologize for your temper.”

“No, I —”

The knight gripped David’s shoulder and squeezed. Pain spiraled through his flesh down to the muscle. The terrace surroundings blurred. He hunched over. “Ow! Ow! Ow!”

“Apologize.”

“Agghh!” Sharper, tighter pain flooded his senses. White lights danced in his vision, obscuring most of it. “Okay, okay! I’m sorry! Let go. Please.”

“Do not apologize to me.” Trog exerted additional pressure on David’s shoulder, twisting him around until he faced Slavandria. “Apologize to her.”