Authors: Morgan Rice
Tags: #scifi, #epic fantasy, #juvenile, #Adventure, #teenage, #dragon, #Magic, #Series, #Fiction, #teen, #Fantasy, #Science Fiction, #fantasy series, #YA, #sword, #sorcerer, #action, #Monsters
A Charge of Valor (19 page)
Thor opened his eyes to see a stream of ice fly out, radiating, covering the beast right before it could strike Conven. The beast shrieked as, bit by bit, the ice spread over him, and froze him in place.
Then, finally, the beast shattered, and melted into a puddle of water at their feet.
The others turned to Thor with a look of gratitude and relief, and Thor, spent, collapsed to his knees, his arm burning from the pain of being burnt, and drained from his use of magic. He was slowly becoming more able to control it, he noticed. But he felt it was also taking a heavier toll on him. He was not yet able to control his stamina, and he felt as if it had all been taken from him.
Reece and O’Connor came over and picked him up, helping to carry him as they all continued on their trek.
They continued, hurrying through the meandering lava fields, following the road of bones, trying to stay as far from the lava streams as possible. The smell of sulfur grew stronger in the air, as did the dark clouds of ash, the perpetual thunder, the explosions of fire. At some point, Thor knew, those sounds were no longer just the volcanoes: now, as they neared, they were also the sound of the dragons’ breath.
As the trail dipped up and down, weaved in and out of lava fields, finally, it took them to a ridge, to a place where the land fell off before them and Thor saw something that would stay with him for the rest of his days.
Before them stood a great sea of fire and lava, sparking, bubbling, impossible to cross. Beyond that, there sat a land of black sand and sulfur, a huge cave dug into an ancient cliff. And filling the sky, flapping their wings, screaming, roaring, were hundreds of dragons, turning the sky black. They all shot flames from their mouths, all filled with fury, with bloodlust. Dozens more were nestled within the cave, guarding its entrance.
“
The Dragon’s Lair,” Indra said.
TWENTY FOUR
Godfrey marched quickly through the night, traversing the back streets of Silesia, Akorth and Fulton beside him. As he looked over at his compatriots, he had to do a double-take to realize that they were his friends: the Empire uniforms they wore were so convincing, especially with the face plates down, that they fooled even he, their life-long friend.
As they marched into the unknown, Godfrey was proud of himself, and also a bit shocked: he’d had no idea that his plan, which was improvising and evolving as it went along, would get half as far as it did. He and Akorth and Fulton, he thought, made the most unlikely of heroes, the only members of the Silesian army still standing, slipping through the night, just the three of them, dressed in these ridiculous uniforms, left to oppose Andronicus’ million-man army. It was so absurd that if Godfrey were watching it from a distance, he would laugh.
But this was real, and he was in it, and life and death were at stake—and Godfrey was not laughing. Nor were his friends. They all marched stiffly, terrified as they passed through camps of Empire soldiers patrolling everywhere, huddled around bonfires, their backs against the wind, trying to get warm. The three of them walked with their chests out, trying to strut with purpose, trying to act as if they belonged and were on a mission of great import.
With each new step Godfrey’s heart pounded for fear of being discovered. He was terrified that someone would notice the mismatched size of his uniform or his crooked stripes or the direction they were marching, or stop to wonder where the three of them might be going this time of night. He increased his pace, as did his friends, and he could sense that they were as nervous as he.
Akorth and Fulton also reeked of ale, and it made him nervous; he wondered if a typical Empire soldier would drink as much as these two, and if it might give them away. He was sure that the ale they’d drank was helping to calm their nerves, but Godfrey didn’t have any ale inside him himself, and it made him jealous. Still, he was happy to have the company, and he knew he would need them if he had any chance of pulling off what he was about to attempt.
Godfrey weaved in and out of the streets, determined to save his brother Kendrick. He had spotted him and the others on the crosses earlier in the day, and it had broke his heart. Godfrey had always had a soft spot for Kendrick, one of the only knights who had not been condescending to him, who had not made him feel like he was less than them. After spotting him, Godfrey had formulated a plan, and had bided his time, waiting with Akorth and Fulton until night fell, until they could make their move. Finally, the time had come.
“
This will never work, you know that?” Akorth said, burping up ale beside him, stumbling, a bit off balance.
“
It is probably the dumbest thing I’ve ever done,” Fulton said. “Although I do admit I feel almost like a hero. It feels pretty good, I have to say,” he said, smiling, revealing missing teeth.
“
Almost
is the key word,” said Akorth. “You’re just a bumbling drunk idiot in an enemy uniform, just like me. That doesn’t make you a hero. It just makes you brave. Which also means stupid. We should all be back in the tavern, huddled up to a fire and some warm ale. Instead, here we are here, freezing our arses off for nothing.”
“
Shut up, both you!” Godfrey hissed.
They slowed to a walk, as a group of Empire soldiers passed them. The soldiers looked them up and down warily, and Godfrey prayed that they didn’t notice anything out of order—or see him trembling.
They rounded a corner, and before they did, Godfrey saw the soldiers turn back and look over their shoulders, hesitating. But then, finally they kept walking. Godfrey breathed a sigh of relief. It was a close call. Perhaps they had bigger fish to fry; perhaps they were unsure; or perhaps they were just too damn cold.
“
Listen you two,” Godfrey whispered harshly. “Stop your bickering. You’re right: it’s reckless. And I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. But I know how to survive. And so do you. So stop talking and follow me and do as I tell you. If not, then turn back and go home now. You might live today. But do you really think you’ll make it here a month?”
The two of them looked at each other, then fell silent and continued to walk by Godfrey’s side.
They crossed through a square of rubble and it tore Godfrey up to see the destruction all around him, to see all of his people bound together, enslaved, to see all the corpses. He realized how lucky he was that he wasn’t lying there with the others.
They entered the courtyard and Godfrey’s anxiety increased. There were more soldiers here, spread out in small groups, huddle around fires. But there, at the far end, in the shadows, he spotted what he had come for: a row of crosses, on which were bound the most important soldiers—including Godfrey.
“
Keep your heads low as we march, but not too low,” Godfrey whispered to the others as they marched across the courtyard, past rows of soldiers. “Act natural, like you belong here. Follow my lead.”
They nodded back nervously.
Godfrey doubled his pace, trying to keep himself not from marching too quickly, too conspicuously, as they headed right up to the row of crosses and to Kendrick.
Kendrick hung there, hunched over on his cross, moaning, eyes closed. He appeared more dead than alive.
Godfrey hissed at him.
“
Kendrick!”
Godfrey hissed several times, wondering if he was dead, when finally, Kendrick lifted his chin and opened his eyes slightly. His eyes fluttered several times.
Kendrick stared back at him in confusion, and then Godfrey realized: given his uniform, Kendrick thought he was an Empire soldier.
Godfrey lifted his face plate, revealing himself.
Kendrick’s eyes opened wide in surprise.
“
We’ve come to cut you down,” Godfrey said. “Do you understand?”
Kendrick nodded quickly, and Godfrey climbed the cross, pulled his dagger out, reached behind him and cut the ropes binding his ankles, then his wrists.
“
Set to work on the others!” Godfrey called out to Akorth and Fulton, and they broke into action, following his lead and cutting down the other soldiers.
As Godfrey cut the final rope, Kendrick suddenly collapsed off the cross, landing on Godfrey, knocking him down with him. Brom, Srog and Atme collapsed onto Akorth and Fulton, all of them stumbling down to the ground.
Godfrey had not anticipated that, nor had he anticipated Kendrick to be so heavy. Kendrick lay on top of him, moaning, like a ragdoll, and Godfrey got up, dragged him to his feet, and draped an arm over his shoulder, his heart pounding with excitement and fear that they escape before they were all discovered.
“
Are you okay?” Godfrey asked.
Kendrick nodded.
“
Don’t worry about me,” Kendrick said. “Save the others.”
Akorth and Fulton dragged up Brom, Srog and Atme, and as Godfrey prepared to cut down more men, suddenly, a voice rang out.
“
Hey, you there!”
Godfrey turned and his heart dropped to see a group of Empire soldiers, on the far side of the courtyard, running for them.
“
What is the meaning of this? Who ordered you to cut these prisoners down?” they called out.
“
RUN!” Godfrey yelled.
Godfrey, Akorth and Fulton began running, dragging Kendrick, Brom, Srog and Atme.
“
This way!” came a voice.
As Godfrey ran, he looked over and saw, kneeling beside the stone wall, a beautiful women with brown skin, of the Empire race. She gestured frantically for him to follow and to enter into a small secret passageway hidden in the stone. Godfrey hesitated, wondering if he should trust her—but then he heard the shouts of the soldiers behind him, and knew he had no choice.
Godfrey led the others towards the woman, all of them ducking into the secret passageway in the dark shadows of the stone wall. As they all darted inside, she quickly slammed the metal grate behind them.
They found themselves inside a small, dark room, hidden behind the wall, and Godfrey kneeled beside the woman and looked out and watched with bated breath as the group of soldiers ran past, charging across the courtyard, looking for them. They had not seen where they’d went. It had worked.
“
Who are you?” Godfrey asked, more grateful than he’d ever been.
“
Sandara,” she replied. “And you are very lucky to be alive.”
Thor woke as first light broke over the horizon, casting an eerie blood-red glow over the fields of ash, over the valley of exploding volcanoes all around them. It had been one of the most harrowing nights of his life. They had all decided to settle in, to wait out the night until the dawn, when the dragons left their lair.
All night, Thor’s dreams had been punctuated by the exploding noises of the volcanoes, by bursts of fire, by the searing heat of lava streams all around them. More than once he had been awakened by dreams that he was sleeping on the edge of the sun, only to see a stream of lava coming at him, and having to roll out of the way.
It was harder to breathe here, too, the clouds thicker, ash everywhere; he was nearly gasping for air by the time they awakened, ash in his ears and eyes and nose, on his cheeks, all over his hands. He looked at the faces of his companions, and saw that they were stained by ash, too. He could tell that none of the others had slept well; they all seemed sleepless and on-edge.
There arose another distant roar, the ground shaking, and the harrowing noises of the dragons began again. The first light broke to a chorus of screams, a huge cacophony splitting the air. As they all turned and looked over the ridge, watched the horizon, one dragon after the next lifted into the air, leaping out of the cave, off the edge of the cliff, their long claws dangling as they flapped their wings, flying higher and higher, screeching and arching back their necks. The creatures were hundreds of feet long, some black, green, purple and some scarlet, covered in ancient scales. They flew close to each other, then far apart, constantly weaving in and out in an intricate pattern.
One after the other leapt off the cliff, taking off in unison, like an army. In the distance, one dove down and breathed, filling the sky with flames, and Thor at first wondered what he was diving for.
Then Thor saw it. He was shocked to see, on the horizon, a contingent of Andronicus’ army, led by Romulus. There, on the far side of the sea of lava, marched hundreds of men, shields held high, heading towards the dragon’s layer. The dragons had spotted them.
Horrific screams arose as the dragons dove for them and breathed streams of fire, burning right through their shields. The shields melted and the soldiers, screaming, went up in flames; they panicked and ran towards each other, setting others aflame. It was chaos.
The rest of Romulus’ army continued to march forward, and the rear rows stepped forward and hurled spears up at the low-flying dragons. But the spears merely bounced off the thick scales.
More dragons plunged, grabbing soldiers with their claws, and flying up with them, high into the air, playing with them, letting them drop, screaming, then diving down and catching them. They did it again and again, until finally, when they tired of the game, they flew the soldiers over the volcanoes and dropped them in. The men shrieked as they sailed through the air and were engulfed in flames.
Romulus’ men were getting slaughtered. Finally, they turned and fled. But the dragons would not let them go. They chased after them, raining down fire on them, eviscerating nearly all of them.
“
Now is our chance,” Thor said, turning to the others. “The dragons have all fled the lair. They are preoccupied. We must quickly get the Sword, before they return.”
“
But how?” Reece asked. “We can’t cross that sea of lava.”
Thor knew they were right. They couldn’t cross that sea. Even if they had a boat, it would melt in moments.
Thor closed his eyes, needing to draw on his power now, more than he’d ever had. He allowed himself to feel the power of this place. To become one with it.
As he did, he felt a very distinct energy. The energy of a dragon. It made him open his eyes wide in shock, as a current ran through him, from his fingertips to his toes. He felt a tingling, a throbbing in the very tips of his fingers, and as he opened his eyes, he saw a lone dragon lingering in the cave. It was smaller than the others, dark purple, with huge red, glowing eyes.
It turned and looked right at Thor. Thor sensed its name: Mycoples. It was a she. He felt her speaking right to him.
With a screech, Mycoples suddenly lifted into the air, flying right for them.
“
A dragon is left behind!” Indra screamed. “It comes our way! We are finished!”
“
No, we are not,” Thor answered calmly. “Do not attempt to injure it.”
The others listened, Reece lowering his spear and O’Connor his bow.
Thor felt the tremendous energy of the dragon rolling through him, and he felt a new power, radiating through his body. He raised his hands high to the sky, and turned his palms upward. He felt Mycoples coming towards them, and felt himself summoning her. He felt her
wanting
to come, as if she had been waiting for him. He felt a stronger connection to this beast than he had to do anything in his life.
Mycoples screeched as she neared. All of Thor’s friends braced themselves in fear as she dove, but Thor did not. He knew she would not breathe fire, knew she would not attack. He knew her better than he knew himself.
Mycoples lowered herself slowly down to the ground, her great wings flapping, landing right before Thor. The ground shook as she did.
Mycoples turned and looked at Thor, her long tongue spitting, then retracting. Her soulful, glowing red eyes met his, and he felt as if he were meeting someone from another lifetime.
Mycoples turned and looked away, proudly. She sat there, as if waiting.
“
Follow me,” Thor said to the others.
Thor jumped up onto Mycoples’ back without a fear, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. The others all looked at each other, dumbfounded. They stood there, too frozen in shock to move.
Then, one at a time, they all followed, jumping onto Mycoples back behind him, Indra taking Krohn.
As they all got on, Thor leaned forward and stroked the dragon’s neck. Her scales were thick, smooth, and the feel of it electrified him. He leaned forward and whispered in her ear.
“
Old friend,” he said, “bring us to your home.”
Mycoples jerked, and leapt up into the air.
She shot straight up, and Thor grabbed on with all his might, as did the others; they screamed and held on for their lives. Mycoples finally leveled out, flapping her huge wings as she flew them over the sea of lava. They were completely at her mercy; if she decided to drop them, they would all be dead in an instant. Yet Thor had never trusted anyone or anything more in his life.
From up here, as they looked down, Thor had the most incredible view of the Land of the Dragons, spread out below them. It was desolate and harrowing and breathtakingly beautiful. It was indeed a land of fire and power, all lit up by the blood red sun of the first light.
As they neared the lair, Thor stroked her neck, and Mycoples dove down low, right to the mouth of the cave, setting them down at the entrance. They all dismounted.
“
Wait for us,” Thor whispered to Mycoples before he left. She purred, blinking slowly and flapping her wings once, as if she understood.
Thor turned with the others, and they all raced inside the cave. There wasn’t much time before the other dragons returned, and every second counted.
Thor was astounded. The cave was packed with mounds of treasure, towers of gold coins, jewelry, treasure chests, weapons—every manner of gold and treasure they could find. It was like an endless treasure tunnel, light gleaming off of everything, and as they ran through Thor had to check himself and resist the impulse to stop and examine, to reach out and grab some.
They ran and ran, Thor feeling the energy of the Destiny Sword ahead, pulling them in.
Finally, breathing hard, they turned a bend, and there, at the end of the cave, sitting right in the center, on a special pedestal, it sat.
The Destiny Sword.
They all stopped in their tracks, breathing hard, all staring, eyes opened wide in wonder. They were all too flabbergasted to say a word.
“
Now what?” O’Connor asked.
“
If no one can wield it,” Elden asked, “how can we bring it back? The thieves took a dozen men just to carry it.”
“
Legend has it that only a MacGil, the true MacGil, can wield it,” Thor said. “There is a MacGil among us.”
They all turned and looked at Reece.
But Reece stood there and shook his head.
“
I am not firstborn,” he said. “I cannot be King. I cannot be the Chosen One. I’m just another MacGil.”
“
Still, you are a MacGil,” Thor urged. “You must try.”
The distant rumblings of the dragons arose, shaking the cave. They were beginning to return.
“
Hurry,” O’Connor said. “We haven’t much time.”
Reece stepped forward quickly, hurried over to the Sword, raised two hands, and with all his might, he tried to hoist it.
He grunted and groaned from the exertion—but nothing happened. It did not budge.
“
We have nothing to lose,” Indra said. “Why don’t we all try?”
Thor looked back over his shoulder, watching the mouth of the cave, as the others all rushed forward, led by Elden.
One at a time, Elden, then O’Connor, then Conven tried to hoist it. Even Indra tried.
But it would not budge.
They all tried together.
Still, it would not budge.
“
Come, help us!” Elden screamed.
Thor rushed forward, and as he neared the Sword, the strangest thing happened: the others all suddenly backed away, as if its energy repelled them. They cleared a wide circle for Thor.
Thor stepped forward, laid one hand on it loosely, and he felt an energy rush through him unlike any he’d ever experienced. It was like he was grasping the sun. Like he knew what it meant to be alive for the first time.
An intense energy shot through his arm and shoulder and his entire being, as Thor leaned back and suddenly hoisted the sword, easily, high overhead.
The others all looked at him with wonder and awe. An intense golden light shone off him, brighter even than the treasure, illuminating the cave, enveloping them all. As one, all of his friends dropped to their knees and knelt before him.
Thor could not understand what was happening. It was all too surreal.
Here he was, holding the Sword of Destiny, the sword that only a MacGil, only the Chosen One, could wield.
Who was he?
