Realm Of Blood And Fire (Book 3) (4 page)

Then, through the gauze of
rain, came a haze of light: a ball shape bobbing in midair moved toward them.
It’s us; don’t attack.
Avruellen’s words sounded clearly in Bronwyn and Arcon’s minds. Bronwyn stopped drawing power for the ball of fire she was about to manifest and wiped her sodden hair off her face instead.

Arcon knelt next to the panther. “Bronwyn, help me get Sinjenasta on the horse.” The rain streamed from the ends of his hair and beard.

Nodding, she drew power and placed fingers of energy under the panther, lifting him out of the puddle, before carefully raising him to the back of the horse Avruellen had led to them.

Arcon, as used as he was to schooling
the expression from his face, could not hide the shock of watching Bronwyn effortlessly move the heavy panther in a way that had never been done before. The realmist waited until Sinjenasta was safely lying over the horse’s back before he asked, “How in the Third Realm did you do that?”

Bronwyn blinked and looked at him through the rain, which had started to ease to a consistent, but softer
, flow. “I don’t know. I just asked the power to weave into a kind of mat, and it did.” Without warning, Bronwyn hunched over and vomited. She shut her eyes at the sudden intensity of her headache.

“I think she’s overdone it with the channeling,” said Arcon. “Blayke, help me get her on the horse, behind Sinjenasta.”

Bronwyn didn’t argue when Arcon and Blayke held her arms and assisted her onto the beast. She looked down at them and could see Avruellen, Corrille and Toran standing nearby, all nervously looking around. “Thanks.”

After loading Bronwyn and Avruellen’s packs onto the horse, Arcon took the
reins from his sister. “Let’s get going. We have a lot of ground to cover, and I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to stay anywhere near any gormons one minute longer.”

There were no arguments, and they departed for Vellonia. Once they reached
the city, they would be preparing for war. Arcon involuntarily shuddered. He felt, in his veins where power had surged and flowed for so many years, that the coming war would bring them much heartache. Even if they won, a heavy price would be paid. And when, after many hours of trudging, they stopped under a clearing night sky, Arcon managed to sleep three fitful hours.

In his dream, he watched Phantom plunge out of the sky, a gormon in pursuit. Blood-covered, the once-white owl glistened red as he plummeted
toward Arcon. Phantom’s screams sounded so real that they woke him. When Arcon rolled over and saw Avruellen asleep next to the subdued fire, he saw blood smeared on her face, dribbling out of her nose, saturating her clothes. His heart racing, he pushed quickly to his feet then blinked. The blood was gone, but the image remained, seared into his mind.

Sensing the future hurtling
toward them like an incensed dragon, Arcon wiped the sweat from his brow and resisted the urge to call on Drakon, the god who had gotten them into this. The realmist spoke quietly to himself. “But why are we the ones who always have to pay?”

Chapter 5

The sun rose, its yellow-tinged rays coloring the undersides of the scattered clouds. For breakfast, Zim and Warrimonious enjoyed a stolen sheep between them while the realmists ate leftovers from the previous night’s dinner. They sat on the edge of a field, which bordered a cattle and dairy farm that seemed, Arie thought, to be on the coast but in the middle of nowhere.

Arie had his back to the dragons, not wanting to see fresh blood
decorating their claws and faces. Unfortunately, he couldn’t shut his ears to the noisy crunching that signified bones snapping. Each loud chomp caused him to pull a face that looked like he was either in pain or constipated.

“Something bothering you, lad?” asked Agmunsten, his face straight.

Arie cringed again at a
snap, crunch
. “No. I love to hear the chorus of breaking bones in the morning. Don’t you?”

Zim said through a mouth full of mutton, “You should try it sometime. Mmm. Juicy and warm.”

Warrimonious interrupted. “Zim, is that a hoof sticking out of your mouth? Please don’t talk while you’re eating; it’s baaa-d manners.” The dragons and realmists, with the exception of Arie, laughed.

Without turning to face the dragons, Arie said, “That’s just going too far. You’re going to be responsible for a child’s nightmares. I’m telling your mother as soon as I see her again; you’re going to be in so much trouble.”
The young realmist stood and walked away from the group, only stopping to sit when he was out of earshot. He enjoyed the rest of his breakfast in silence until Astra came to get him.

“We’re leaving in a minute. Now’s the time to have one more
bathroom break.”

Arie stared at her and sighed loudly. “What is it with adults? You’d think I was too stupid to think of going to the
bathroom myself. I’m not a baby, you know. I’m twelve. In some cultures I’m old enough to be a father.”

Astra snorted laughter. “Second Realm help us if that happens in the next couple of years. Just thought I’d remind you; it’s no reflection on your ability to take yourself to the
bathroom at the appropriate time. See you back over there when you’re done.”

When Arie joined them, the dragons had cleaned the blood from their mouths and claws. The young realmist inhaled the early-morning dew-laden air before mounting Zim and pulling his hood tight.

Already sitting astride his saddle on Warrimonious, Agmunsten said, “The next leg is going to be tough. Our next rest stop is over twenty hours away—an island in the middle of the Western Sea. Arie and Astra, stay low on Zim’s back to cut wind resistance. We may need to resort to Second-Realm power if the dragons become tired, and at this stage, I don’t know if it matters that the gormons know where we are. They’re here and they’re a danger, but I think they’re too busy getting ready to assault Vellonia, so I won’t bother shielding. Are we ready?”

Dragons and realmists
answered “Yes” before launching into the air.

At about lunchtime, Arie’s fingers and hands ached from holding on so long
, and his shoulders were sore. He had taken to letting go with one hand, wiggling his fingers and rotating his wrist before grabbing on and then letting go with the other. While he did this, he clenched his knees against the saddle as tight as he could, worried he’d fall and take Astra with him.

He asked Agmunsten, mind-to-mind,
Are you sure we can’t stop for a rest break before tomorrow? I don’t know if I can keep holding on for that long, and what about sleep?

You’ll just have to do it, lad. No one said this was going to be easy.

Arie swallowed hard and told himself,
Okay, it’s not that hard. You can do it.
As the sun moved laboriously over their heads and midafternoon descended, Arie spoke again.
I’m starving. How am I meant to eat? You haven’t thought this through very well, Agmunsten.

I beg your pardon? Of course I’ve thought it through. Dragons are not made for water landings; well, they could probably land, but there is no way they’d be able to take off again.

He’s right
, interjected Zim.
I’m not even sure whether I’d float after landing, or sink. It’s not a good idea.

Trying to ignore his aching limbs and grumbling stomach, Arie said,
But there must be somewhere to stop—even a little island or a rock. I’ve seen pictures, in one of the books at the academy, of mammoth rocks jutting out of the ocean. Surely we could find one of those.

Astra spoke into their minds.
Can we tie ourselves onto Zim with Second-Realm power and then grab some food out of the bags and eat?

If you can figure out how to do it without killing yourselves, please let me know, but right now I have some thinking to do.
Agmunsten’s mind-voice was in his “this conversation is finished or else” tone.

Well, Arie, it looks like we’re going to have to figure this one out for ourselves, because I’m with you
—it’s time to eat.

Another hour of what seemed like never-ending ocean went by when Arie smiled and said:
I’ve got it, everyone. I’ve got it!

So then tell us, lad. Don’t make me wait.
Agmunsten looked across the expanse of air between the dragons and made eye contact with Arie.

I’m going to weave the power into stretchy ropes and wrap it around our legs and waists and around Zim. Then we shouldn’t fall off.

That sounds rather convoluted. If it doesn’t work, you’re going to use a Third Realm of a lot of energy, which you’ll need later. You might end up falling asleep when you’re supposed to be holding on.

What do you suggest, smarty-pants Head Realmist?
Arie let sarcasm color his voice.

I’m suggesting you save your energy and stop talking nonsense.

Since when did you become a naysayer, Agmunsten? When I was at the academy, you were all for trying new things. Sounds like someone got old while they were away.
Astra teased.

Warrimonious cut in.
Ahem, realmists, while you were arguing, it seems as if a bit of luck has come our way. There’s a large ship down there. It looks big enough for us, if we take turns of being onboard. What do you think?

How fortuitous,
said Agmunsten.
Are you sure you could land without becoming tangled in the rigging? And who would have a ship out this far? The Zamahlans wouldn’t have patrols this close to the mainland, would they, Astra?

Astra pouted while she thought.
It’s possible, but highly unlikely
.
Maybe they’re pirates?

It’s too risky,
said Zim.
We’ve got enough to contend with, without bungling into a ship full of bloodthirsty thieves.

To add to his aching arms and shoulders, Arie’s neck started to spasm. “
Ouch. I can’t hold on for much longer. What are you worried about, anyway? You’re a freaking dragon! You can set people on fire with one breath. No one’s going to mess with us. Please? Just for ten minutes, so I can stretch out, go to the bathroom and eat. I’m desperate.

Arcon looked across at Zim and nodded.
Are you sure?
The dragon asked.

Yes. I don’t think Gabrielle would forgive me if I let Arie fall to his death. Arie’s right: we don’t want to kill anyone, but if it comes to that, we are the superior force. You land, and we’ll stay in the air. If it goes
off without a hitch, after you take off, we’ll land. I could do with a bathroom break.

Okay, but just remember it was you who gave permission. I’m not taking the blame if it
all goes to the Third Realm.

Yippee!
Arie shouted, and Astra laughed.

The dragons glided in wide arcs as they descended, Zim flying faster than Warrimonious, who stayed higher and kept watch
. Arcon was poised to grab Second-Realm power if the need arose. As they neared the ship, Arie smelled the fresh brackishness of the ocean, and he could make out the crew on deck staring and pointing. When they were fifty feet from the ship, a few of the men ran below deck, scurrying like mice before a cook with a broom.

Arie gripped tight, anticipating the jolt as Zim landed on the hard deck. Astra’s chin knocked into the back of Arie’s head. “
Ow!”

“Sorry, Arie. Are you okay?” Astra asked, rubbing her chin.

“Yeah, I’ll live. Are you all right?”

“Yes. I still have all my teeth, so it’s all good.”

After recovering, Arie noticed the sailors that surrounded them. Some were shirtless with tanned skin; some wore black vests over fraying white shirts sullied with stains. Their loose pants ended just below the knee. Some wore fresher-looking clothes: shirts without wrinkles or loose threads, hemmed pants and clean vests. Arie had never seen so much variation in facial hair, from neatly trimmed goatee-style to bushy-vagrant that reached to one man’s belly button. After performing a quick head count, he estimated at least half of them held daggers or cutlasses at the ready. He knew pirates when he saw them and wasted no time in drawing Second-Realm power.

Zim kept his wings half outstretched in an attempt to appear more menacing. He would have stretched them out fully, but the mast was in the way. It didn’t prevent one of the sailors from approaching them, though. Stopping directly in front of Zim, he stared into the dragon’s eyes with the one eye that wasn’t covered by his black patch.

The man, who Arie assumed was the captain, had an orange-colored beard that finished just below his chin, cut straight across, like the fringing that decorated the ends of his mother’s curtains. Flame-red dreadlocks sat like unused rope on his shoulders. His lips curled up in a sneer before he spoke. “What do ye be doing here?”

Arie added,
Me hearties,
in his mind. He knew he should be scared, but he was trying not to laugh. All pirates spoke the same language. Arie made a mental note to ask Agmunsten why that was.

Zim finally answered. “We needed a place to rest. I hope you don’t mind. My name is Zimapholous Accorterroza. On my back are Arie and Astra. And you are Captain…?”

“My sailors call me Captain Death. Now ye have rested, be gone.”

“But I need to eat! We just need a few minutes, please?” Arie knew he should be quiet, but he couldn’t help himself.

“And what do we have here, aye?” The captain strode around the deck to look up at Arie with his uncovered eye.

“Just a small boy who needs to eat and pee,” said Arie.

“Well, we don’t want small boys aboard. Nasty things can happen to them; don’t ye know.”

Zim curled his neck around to hover his head over the captain. It seemed like being polite was not going to help them. The dragon opened his mouth and shot out just enough flame to singe the base of the mast.

The captain jumped around at the flash of flame. “Are ye mad? You’ll burn the ship to the waterline and kill us all. Get off my ship, now!” He gestured with his cutlass, swinging it about before pointing it at the new arrivals. “Lads, attack!”

The horde of sailors warily closed in on them, hands tensely gripping weapons honed to razor-sharp perfection. Zim quickly spoke into Arie and Astra’s minds.
I can’t take off quickly. We’re going to have to use the power to kill them.

Arie tried to fight the feeling of panic that rose in his chest.
What? We can’t just kill all of them, can we? Isn’t that bad?

Zim’s right, Arie. We don’t have a choice. Obviously, we’ll only kill as many of them as we need to. But we’re sorely outnumbered. If we don’t act now, we’ll be overcome.
Astra drew Second-Realm power and hit three of the approaching men with what looked to Arie like a fork of red lightning. The crack of the impact made Arie’s ears ring, and the three men dropped to the ground, black holes in their clothes where the strike had passed through their chests.

The captain didn’t spare a glance to see what had happened to his crew. Instead, he growled and
rushed forward, sword held high.

Heartened by the
captain’s charge, the remaining sailors pushed forward. Zim turned his head from one side to the other, breathing fire. Accompanying the sailor’s screams was the stench of burning skin and smoke. Even though Zim had killed a few men, others advanced, a swarm now spewing from below decks.

Arie flinched when the tip of a cutlass stirred the hair on his arms as Zim stepped sideways just in time. Shaken out of complacency, Arie reached into the starry realm and siphoned as much energy as he could handle. His palms tingled and warmed as he held them toward the attacking pirates. Not wanting to see men die by his own hand, he shut his eyes and started firing indiscriminately.

Arie chanted to himself as blood vibrated and heated in his veins:
Go away. Go away. Disappear.

Zim continued to breathe fire and Astra sent
lightning strikes into the men who slashed from the other side of Zim. If Zim hadn’t already had his mouth open, his jaw would have dropped like a stone. He watched silver beams shoot from Arie’s palms. Whatever the beams touched disappeared leaving no trace, as if they had never existed. Parts of the men popped away, leaving three men with spaces where their stomachs should have been and two without groins or thighs. Their screaming remained for a few seconds.