War In The Winds (Book 9) (3 page)

“Then we go.”

“Go where?”

“Wherever my hammer takes us.”

Pilpin nodded and smiled.

Bang!

CHAPTER 4

The Roamers. Ancient. Elven. Stalwart. Vulpine. Trapped.

Shum dived for cover.

A dragon swooped over his head, tail lashing out and striking the rocks, before soaring up into the air again. Bigger than two men, the dragon and one of its brethren had cornered them in a narrow chasm. The dragons, cherry scaled with barbed black wings and tails, hissed and spit blasts of fire at them. Flame tongues, they were called.

Shum dashed across another chasm behind another rock. Hoven was there. His arm dangled at his side, and his sleeve was seared to his skin.

“Can you fight?” Shum said.

“Certainly,” Hoven said, wincing. “I just wish I had my spear with me.”

Whoosh!

The second flame tongue dragon whipped overhead, blasting a streak of fire into the stone and then darting back up in the air. Its serpentine neck twisted around. Its eyes were glowing red flares. Tail and wings black. Cursed. The dragons struck quickly, again and again.

Shum peered over the rocks and up the walls of the chasm. He and Hoven had opted to split from the other Roamers in an attempt to divide the dragons. Instead, both dragons had followed the two Wilder Elf brothers. The flame tongues were crafty. Patient. Capable of setting the entire chasm on fire.

“Suggestions?” Hoven said. His elven sword, keen and fanciful, was white-knuckled in his grip.

“If we can take one, we might scare the other off.”

Above the rim of the chasm, the dragons circled and spat flames. The small bushels of brush quickly caught fire, and the chasm was full of smoke. Shum squinted his eyes. The big elf handed his brother a spear and said, “I’ll lure one in.”

Hoven spun the spear around, lengthening it one-two-three times. He eyed the sky and nodded. Shum crawled up on the rock, blades ready at his sides. Dragon hides were tough, but his elven steel was a match for the smaller flame tongue. He stretched his blades in the air, shouted a challenge in Elvish, and muttered an incantation.

The dragons dove, two red darts streaking toward him, closing in. Flames shot from their mouths. A wash of fire covered Shum from head to toe. The first dragon’s mouth rushed at him, wide open.

Shum struck, cutting the dragon’s nose with one blade and clipping its wing with the other.

The dragon barreled into him, backing him into the rocky chasm. The beast skittered over him. Claws tore into his face, gashed his thigh.

“Agh!”

Shum rolled to one knee.

The dragon squared off on him, rearing back on its hind legs, towering over him. Its neck coiled back, its lungs filled, and dragon fire whooshed out.

Shum hunkered down. The heat was excruciating, suffocating, but nothing burned. His spell held, for now. He rushed in. The first blade skipped off the dragon’s dark cherry underbelly. The second lanced into the dragon’s shoulder.

The dragon snarled, hind claws flashing.

Shum ducked, rolled, struck, dodged, and struck. Claws clipped him. Teeth snapped at him. The speed of the bigger foe was amazing. Swift. Fluid. Punishing. Shum parried its claws.

The dragon turned its hip and swung its tail around.

He jumped. The spiked tail caught his booted heel and flipped him onto his back.

The dragon pounced. It pinned his arms to the ground. Its claws dug into his flesh.

“Have at it, dragon!” he said.

The dragon’s head coiled back.

Sshlunk!

Hoven’s spear lanced through its neck.

The dragon bounded backward, wriggling its neck. Its claws dug at the spear. Fire exploded from its mouth, engulfing its head in flame.

Hoven locked his good arm under Shum’s shoulder and dragged him away.

The dragon exploded.

An earsplitting roar filled the sky, and the second dragon dove at both of them with flames surging from its mouth.

Sshlunk!

A great spear penetrated the dragon’s belly. It veered left and crashed into the side of the chasm.

Another Roamer appeared on the rocks. He bounded through the chasm with the supple ease of a wild animal. Two blades sprung from his hips. The Roamer pounced on the back of the flame tongue and put the beast’s thrashings to an end.

Glitch!

A puff of smoke came from the great lizard’s lips, and its bright eyes winked out. The younger Roamer cleaned his blades and sheathed them. A warm smile was on his face that went well with the rugged ranger garb he wore.

Hoven nodded and said, “Well done.”

“Well done indeed, Liam,” Shum said, steadying himself.

Without a word, Liam nodded. Then his eyes drifted toward the sky.

Another flame tongue circled.

Blood dripping to the ground, Shum gathered his swords.

“Roamer up,” he said.

A moment later, the dragon dove.

Liam went for the spear in the dead dragon’s belly, but the beast had wedged it into the ground.

“On guard, Liam, or take cover.”

Eyes flame-ridden with hatred, the third dragon closed in.

A great flying bulk slammed into it, driving it into the chasm wall. The two monstrous creatures rolled down the cliff side and into the gorge.

The Roamers rushed over.

The cherry-scaled dragon had locked up with a great winged ape. Massive fists pummeled the dragon, heavy blow after heavy blow. The dragon reeled. Recoiled.

The winged ape tore into it with savage power. Dragon claws tore at the hairy beast. Fire scorched its hide. The ape locked its arms around the dragon’s neck and slammed the dragon’s hornless head into the wall, full force.

Fire spewed from the dragon’s mouth.

The muscular arms of the great ape bulged.

The dragon roared one last time before its neck snapped.

Shum, Hoven, and Liam kneeled as the great Sansla Libor walked over. He towered over them a full eight feet in height. The savageness was gone from his eyes, but not the power.

“Arise and be healed,” Sansla said in a distinctly elven voice. “We have much more work to do.”

CHAPTER 5

“They’re so small,” Ben said to Bayzog, eyes fixed on the dragons. “Almost tiny, like field mice.”

Bayzog rubbed his eyes and held his head. Weary, he rested his arms on the table and eyed the dragons with intent. They were wondrous. Three of them, scales bright in color. A citrine yellow, a scarlet red, and a cobalt blue. Sharp and scintillating as the sun. Each prowled over his table, and they growled back and forth at one another.

Ben stretched his index finger toward the citrine one. “Can I touch one?”

“I wouldn’t advise that.”

The tiny citrine dragon widened its jaws, and a bolt of lightning flashed out.

Zap!

Ben lurched up. Eyes wide and hair standing on end, he collapsed on the floor. Shaking, he crawled up to his elbows.

“Are you alright?” Bayzog said, holding back a chuckle.

The rangy warrior shook his head, peering at the table.

The dragons peered back at him. A puff of smoke came from the red one’s mouth, and a puff of blue acid from the cobalt’s.

Ben eased up and away from the table. “They pack a punch.”

“I’m sure it’s not personal,” Bayzog said. “Dragons in general aren’t too trusting of people. You should know that by now.”

Ben shrugged and took a stool farther down the table. He smacked his lips. “I taste metal.”

“That’s better than death,” Bayzog said. “You should be more careful.”

“Aye,” Ben said, rubbing his head. “So, are they really
dragons
?”

“Yes, and I didn’t even know that such a breed existed until I came across them in my studies.”

“Why did you summon such small ones?” Ben said. “I thought you’d need something bigger?”

“I need something our enemies won’t notice.”

“Are they easier to control?”

Bayzog shrugged and said, “I don’t know. I’ve never controlled a dragon before.” He rested his fingers on the jaxite stones and concentrated.
Come
, he thought.
Come.

One by one, the dragons paraded over and sat back on their haunches. Their tails swished behind their backs, heads cocking.

“I think they like you,” Ben said. “What are they called?”

“The Elvish word is long, and I’m not sure how to pronounce it in Common.”

“Eh, well, how about I call them dragonettes?”

“I don’t see why not.”

“So, what do these tiny dragons eat?” Ben asked. “Flowers and such?”

“People.”

“People!”

Bayzog smirked.

“It’s good to see you in better spirits,” Ben said to him. “But honestly, how can they help our cause?”

“They are small, fast, and virtually undetectable,” Bayzog said. “And remember, dragons are outstanding trackers.” He set some articles of clothing on the table, items from Sasha, Rerry, and Samaz’s wardrobes. “Seek,” he whispered to the dragons. “Seek.”

The dragonettes snorted and sniffed the items. One by one, they raised their heads to him in a sort of salute.

“I have to admit,” Bayzog said, “this is going better than I expected.”

Ben nodded.

***

It had taken Bayzog hours to cast the summons, and upon completing it, he had fallen over in exhaustion. That was three days before this morning, when the dragonettes appeared. How they’d gotten into his home, he didn’t know. All that mattered was they were here and they seemed to be doing his bidding. He took a breath and sent his thoughts to them.

I’m seeking my wife and my sons. I miss them. I need them. Can you help me?

The dragonettes growled back and forth at one another and traipsed around. They butted heads with their tiny horns.

Bayzog felt the jaxite stones warming under his palm. He had control of the tiny dragons! At least, he thought he did. Still, better to ask than to order in such delicate circumstances. He wanted to earn their trust and respect. It was better that way. He couldn’t control them forever, or at least, he didn’t want to. With or without the jaxite stones.

Their wings buzzed to life the same as a hummingbird flies. They lifted off the table and darted through the air, zipping back and forth in the wink of an eye. Briefly, they circled Ben’s head, causing him to duck. They zipped in front of Bayzog, roared, then headed upward through a crack in the wall and disappeared from sight.

“Did they flee, or are they doing what you told them?” Ben said, peering up at the rafters.

“We’ll see,” Bayzog said, stuffing his hands into his sleeves. “We’ll see.”

“Huh, I think I miss them already.” Ben hitched his elbows on the table. “To think, you can actually hold a dragon in your palm. That’s amazing! And the way they fly! Fast. Fast as lightning.”

They sat in silence for a long moment. Ben’s eyes were fixed on the rafters. Bayzog gazed at his book. He’d just summoned three dragons.
What other wonders can I do?
He stretched out his fingers. The book slid off the table into the air and opened up before his eyes.

“Are you already reading again?” Ben said. “Don’t you get tired from all that reading?”

“I won’t stop until my family is found,” he said. “You should know that by now.”

“I do know that, but let us get a breath of fresh air, at least.” Ben made his way to the closet and stuffed his boots on. “Our enemies might be missing us anyway. Best we give them something to see.”

With a wave of Bayzog’s finger, the tome closed and lowered back onto the table.

“Perhaps you’re right,” Bayzog said, sauntering over to the closet to slip his shoes on. “You’re a good friend, Ben.”

“As are you, Bayzog.” Ben buckled on his sword belt. “I just wish there was more that I could do.”

“You’ve done more than enough already. Come, let’s stretch our legs a little, shall we?”

They made their way out of the mystic apartment and back to the gardens. A misty rain fell, wetting the flower petals. Bayzog took a seat on the bench, with Ben standing near his side. It was here he always waited, in plain sight, hoping the servants of Barnabus would check in with him. It was his way of letting them know he was desperate and under their command. At least that’s what he wanted them to think.

Ben’s fingers tapped on the pommel of his sword. His eyes were busy, drifting from person to person. It seemed they all avoided his stare, avoided walking by him, even.

Are they all in on this?

They sat for almost two hours, talking little. Ben, as usual, commented on the flowers and chatted a little about the time when he had worked on his parents’ farm. Bayzog could feel the tension in the man. Ben had become a man of action. A soldier. Fighter. The waiting game must be torment to him.

“Perhaps you should spend a little time among the other folk,” Bayzog suggested. “Unwind. So long as you are within the city, I don’t think our unseen captors will mind. Go. Be normal.”

“I’m not so sure I want to spend time among these people,” Ben said, sucking his teeth and eyeing a vulture of a man walking by them with a stone-cold stare. “And I always have this feeling they want us separated. We’re all split up enough already. Only the Sultans of Sulfur know where Nath is, and Brenwar’s probably arguing with a tree somewhere. No, I’m staying.”

“As you wish,” Bayzog said, “and I hope no offense.”

“None taken.”

A figure approached. She was beautiful. Crimson robes. Tall, dark, and eerie. Her voice was soft and commanding.

“Bayzog.” She nodded. “I bring word of your wife and sons …”

CHAPTER 6

Brenwar tugged at his reins. Into the stiff winds they rode. Their dwarven horses nickered and stomped their hairy hooves. Behind him, Pilpin led his horse to a stop and opened his mouth. Cutting his utterance off with his hand, Brenwar squinted his eyes and sniffed the air.

In a low voice he said, “You smell that?”