Realm Of Blood And Fire (Book 3) (6 page)

“Wow.” Arie smiled. “Are you sure she doesn’t mind?”

“You can ask her yourself.”

Arie looked out to sea. Kaphos had swum closer, her head above the water. Her dark eyes looked at Arie. He walked to the edge of the water and returned her gaze.

Hello, Arie
. Her mind-voice was calm, reminding him of when his mom had sung lullabies, not at all like the scream earlier.
Agmunsten has told me all about you. It seems flying long distances doesn’t agree with you
. Did he detect a hint of mirth?

I guess it doesn’t. Flying is good when I can have
bathroom and food breaks.
He smiled.
Are you sure you don’t mind taking me?

I do what I must. I do prefer solitude, but the fate of Talia is more important than my preferences. Don’t worry, little
Talian. I will enjoy your company, as it is for but a short time.

Thank you.

“Okay, now that that’s settled,” said Agmunsten, “it’s time for breakfast, bathroom, and off we go.”

When they flew again, Arie intermittently looked down, checking for Kaphos. She swam underwater for the most part, rising every now and then to breathe. The boy
smiled, relieved he wouldn’t be left behind. Now he just had to hang on for a few more hours. To keep his mind occupied, and awake, he tried to imagine what Zamahl would look like. But then he remembered he could just ask.

Hey, Astra, what’
s Zamahl like?

Very different from what you’re used to. Our farms and villages are similar to what you would find in Veresia or Brenland, but our cities are full of color. We paint our buildings red, blue, orange, white, and
green, or build them out of colored marble, and we have many buildings that are four or five stories tall, with one home on each level. There is the most amazing range of flowers, and everyone has potted blooms hanging from their balconies or in their gardens. We also have many people living close to each other. I imagine it’s even more crowded than when I left all those years ago.

Sounds interesting. I can’t wait to see.

Well, reserve your judgment until we see who is in charge. We could be walking into incredible danger.

Will you visit your parents?

Astra considered the question. Would they still be alive? Would they be happy to see her, or angry? Would they inform the authorities? She sighed. There were many times she almost returned for missing them, but she knew realmistry was her calling, and she couldn’t change who she was or what she was destined to do. The night she left, she had made her choice, and even though she had cried countless times, she knew the decision to leave Zamahl was the right one.

I don’t know, Arie. It depends on a lot of things. But I do hope so.
Astra crossed her toes, like it would make a difference.

By early evening
, Zim noticed dark clouds on the horizon. A storm approached from the west, and they were flying to meet it. Spindly forks of electricity flashed out from the roiling mass. Zim spoke to the other realmists.
We’ll be in that within fifteen minutes. We’re the only things out here, so we’re sure to be hit. We’ll need to shield. Agmunsten can shield us, and Astra, can you please shield Warrimonious?

Of course, Zim.
You’re not worried about the gormons tracking where we are?

The gormons won’t matter if we get struck by lightning.

I suppose not. Let me know when to start,
Astra replied.

Soon drops of water hit their faces, and the dragons put their heads into the gusting wind.
Now,
Zim called.

Astra opened the portal in her mind, feeling for the Second-Realm corridor. She was quick to locate it. Her awareness was sucked through the black until she was spat out into what she liked to call the
“jewel of the realms.” Millions, maybe billions, of symbols shone like many-faceted diamonds laid out on black velvet cloth, reflecting light and twinkling with the magic of life’s essence. Smiling, she silently thanked the realm and took the power she needed, drawing it into her body.

As Astra surrounded them with her invisible bubble, the rain turned into a pelting torrent. From the safety of the bubble, Arie could
see the drops sliding horizontally along the surface of the shield, like tadpoles swimming in a stream. A deafening crack divided the ozone. Arie flinched and was almost blinded when Agmunsten’s shield was hit. The lightning shunted Zim, and he fell a few feet before recovering.

“Whoa! That was close,” Arie said. “Oh, you can hear in this thing.”

“Yes. Being inside the barrier is like being closed in a room. It’s warmer too. Can you feel it?”

“Hmm, you’re right. This is a much better way to travel.”

“Well, I’m tiring, so we need to fly through this storm as fast as we can. It takes a lot of energy to shield a flying dragon. The wingspan is ridiculous.”

Warrimonious interrupted. “Ahem. If you have any complaints, I’d be happy to let you off here.”

Astra remained silent.

“I thought so.”

Flying deeper into the storm, Zim was hit again, and Agmunsten spoke into their minds.
I can’t take too many more hits. It’s like getting whacked over the head—the vibration makes it feel like my teeth are falling out, and I’m sweating.

Does that mean your blood is heating up too much?
Arie asked.

Yes, lad. We’ll fly for a few more minutes, but lower, so if I have to drop my shield, there is less risk of being hit.

Can’t we fly above the storm?

No, Arie,
Agmunsten answered.
None of us will be able to breathe.

Within seconds, the rain turned to pellets of ice, the hail hitting the invisible Second-Realm power and bouncing off. Astra squinted her eyes, straining against her body’s desire to stop channeling as her blood heated.

And then it happened.

A bolt of searing electricity exploded from above, striking Astra’s
invisible shield of energy. The realmists gripped tighter as Warrimonious was shoved downward, and they were jerked almost out of the saddle. Astra’s ears rung, and her tentative hold on the flow from the Second Realm broke. She could feel the wisps of hair that had escaped her hood stand on end from the static before the rain flattened them to her face.

I’m sorry.

It’s okay, Astra. I’ll fly lower.
Warrimonious descended until he was three dragon lengths from the ocean. Soon enough, Zim joined them—Agmunsten had given up shielding too.

How much f
arther, Zim?
asked Warrimonious.

We should arrive around midnight—still five more hours
.

Arie groaned but gritted his teeth. He would make it if it took
everything he had . . . although he wasn’t sure even that would be enough.

Chapter 8

Queen Jazmonilly stood in the Heart of Vellonia on the five-pointed-star shape embedded into the floor. She channeled Second-Realm energy while holding two columns that rose from the floor to the ceiling—one obsidian, one blood-red. In her mind, she saw two blockages in the rivers of energy powering the golden spires that protected Vellonia from airborne attack. Carefully, she diverted a dribble of energy from the main river into the blockage to break it apart. Fleck by fleck, it dissolved to become part of the sea of magical current that surrounded it.

Closing off her link with the Second Realm, she removed her hands from the pillars. A low growl escaped her
mouth as she stared around the room looking for any sign of who had been tampering with Vellonia’s protective spires. This room was warded against Second Realm and Talian power that was drawn from outside its confines, and the door was locked and had been guarded since Symbothial’s death. So who was getting in here and causing trouble? Or was it just a natural occurrence? This was the third time since Zim had left that she had found blockages on her daily checks.

Her silver scales flashing in the torchlight, Jaz shut and locked the door, nodded to the sentry, side-stepped a startled, black-bearded realmist—one of the ones Agmunsten had recently sent from the academy—who had been scurrying past, and made her way to see her husband, King Valdorryn. Knowing he would be seeing to
newly-arrived provisions of dried fruit and herbs, she took the stairs to the first-floor kitchen storeroom.

When Jaz entered the high-ceilinged storeroom, she couldn’t see Valdorryn. But then she spied him
: hidden by a mountain of boxes—the tip of his tail peeking out from behind the wall of produce gave him away.

“There you are, my love.”

The king peered out. “Hello, my darling. This is the never-ending supply of human food. I hope they appreciate it.” He made a few ticks with his quill on the list he held.

“Have we enough space in here?”

“For these boxes, yes. But there is at least double this. They’re moving the other boxes downstairs to one of the dungeon cells. So, what did you want to talk to me about?”

“I don't want to worry you, but two channels were blocked this morning—the spires to the north of the city. I don’t know if I’m being paranoid or if someone is sabotaging us. It was bad enough to believe Symbothial would betray us, but surely no other dragons would. I mean, who would side with the gormons over us?”

Valdorryn raised his eyebrows when some of his wife’s scales flashed red. “We’re not at war yet. Calm down, love.”

“Don’t tell me to calm down. Without those defenses working, those wretched flying demons will kill us all.”

The king took a deep breath and blew a puff of smoke to the ceiling. “Just keep doing what you’re doing. We have someone on the door all the time. There’s nothing more we can do, short of sleeping in there.” Jaz looked at him as if he’d just had a brilliant idea. “No, you’re not sleeping in there.” She still looked hopeful. “No, Jaz, I am not sleeping there either.”

She came as close to pouting as a dragon could. “Maybe we could get someone else to.”

“No. It’s too dangerous. And what if they caught someone in there and a battle of power erupted? The whole city could collapse. I won’t have it.” The king cast a stern glare at his wife. “Now, surely you have other things to attend to, as we have many guests arriving over the next few weeks and a castle to prepare for war.”

The queen matched his scowl
with her own. “Yes, I have things to do, but I hope I won’t have to say “I told you so”.” As she walked to the nursery, she sent a mind-message to the “head of visitor comfort.”
Anazista, I’d like all the guest rooms ready by the end of the week, if possible.

It will be difficult, but I will do my best. I thought we had a few more weeks.

Unfortunately we have no idea when everyone will start arriving—things can change quickly. Arcon, Avruellen and their protégés could arrive any day, and I know that King Fendill sent some of his army this way when he left for Bayerlon, as did Queen Alaine. So we’ll need accommodation for their seconds-in-command. I have Karadimbas organizing the soldier’s accommodation in Little Vellonia.
Little Vellonia was secreted across the valley and took up three floors of a mountain that was smaller than the royal family’s lofty home. Decorated more sparsely than the main dragon lodgings, it provided perfect accommodation for visiting armies.

As you wish, Queen Jazmonilly. My team and I will do our best.

Continuing up two flights of stairs, Jazmonilly quietly sung a lullaby.

A little egg hatched and gave to me

A precious dragon hatchling

New scales shining so bright

In the gentle firelight

A precious little hatchling

Your untried claws are yet to hunt

And your gossamer wings barely dry

Precious little hatchling

But one day you will fly far from me.

And when you soar the skies,

My precious little hatchling

Remember that every flame I breathe

Is for you

As she finished, she reached a blue door—the color signified freedom in the sky and the hope of a better future for the dragons of tomorrow. Jazmonilly nodded at the two hulking dragons guarding the door. They saluted and stepped aside.  On entering, Jazmonilly immediately felt at peace.

Twelve stone blocks, knee-high to a dragon, the insides carved out to fit dragon eggs, sat against one of three blue walls. A mosaic of young dragons playing in the thermals above Vellonia decorated the fourth wall. Standing a dragon’s head shorter than Jazmonilly, and watching the eggs, was a gray-scaled dragon, her tummy a shade of pastel yellow.

“Oh, Queen Jazmonilly. How lovely to see you.”
The dragon nursemaid bowed her head in respect. “You’re just in time for today’s firing of the eggs. Would you like to do it?”

The queen smiled and clasped her hands together. “I would love to, cousin. Thank you,
Emerance.” Jazmonilly approached the line of eggs.
Hello, future Vellonians. We can’t wait to meet you. Here is some fire to warm your tiny bodies and make you strong.
She breathed in through her sizable nostrils, and then opened her mouth. A controlled stream of orange fire streamed out, flowing over the first egg and stone holder. The flame embraced the egg for a few seconds before Jaz moved to the next one, the stone holding the heat that would warm the egg for twenty hours. Walking down the line, she heated the eggs one by one.

“There we are,
Emerance. They’ll stay warm until tomorrow. I can’t wait until Arcese’s egg arrives. You’ll be seeing a lot more of me then.”

Emeranc
e smiled. “I look forward to it too, my queen. Ah, to have a royal baby in the nursery will be an honor. It’s been such a long time. I remember when Zimapholous, Arcese and Pandellen were in here. So long ago, but it feels like yesterday.”

“They were such a handful—especially Zim, but he is such a good young dragon now, and who would have thought he would become part of The Circle. And I remember your little ones—Symbothial was always so lively.” Jaz smiled, her silver cheeks shining with pride until she saw the look on
Emerance’s face. She put her clawed hand to her mouth. “Oh, I’m so sorry, Emerance. We all miss your darling boy. Please forgive my slip up.”

Emerance’s
sorrowful expression flicked to anger before she schooled it to neutral so quickly that Jaz shrugged it off as her imagination fooling her. “I’ll see you soon. And thank you for doing such a wonderful job with our young ones.”

“I live to serve the dragons, my queen.”
Emerance inclined her head.

Stepping out of the nursery, Jaz heard the guards talking and then noticed a black shape out of the corner of her eye. When she turned her head to look down the hallway, it had gone. She turned to the guards. “Shouldn’t you be paying attention
? Not talking?”

“Sorry, my queen
. It just gets a bit, well, boring.”

Jazmonilly flared her nostrils. “Complacency won’t be tolerated. If anything happens to those eggs, you will both be banished. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, Your Highness,” both dragons answered in unison, bowing.

“Now, did you see anything unusual while I was in there?”

“No,” the larger dragon answered, being the more senior of the two.

“Carry on, then, and don’t let me catch you slacking on the job again.” Jazmonilly lifted her chin and walked as regally as she could down the hall. But something bothered her. She had never caught guards talking on the job—not in the fifty years she had been queen. And what was that dark shape—if indeed there had been a dark shape.
Hmm, I must be imagining things.
There is too much to do without making up new things to worry about, you silly dragon.
Trying to rationalize it did not stop the feeling of foreboding that slithered, spike by spike, down Jazmonilly’s spine.

***

Bronwyn trudged next to the horse that Arcon led, her hand resting on Sinjenasta’s shoulder. The panther was still slung over the horse’s back—a week after they had left the seaside town. “He’s not getting any better, and the fever isn’t coming down.”

Avruellen looked at her niece, lines of worry cementing a path across her usually smooth brow. “You don’t look so good, either.” The realmist placed the back of her hand on Bronwyn’s brow.

“I’m okay. I don’t feel great, but what do you expect when my creatura is sick. Bloody infected gormons—I’m happy to die if I can at least kill a few before I go.

“You’ll get your chance,” said Arcon. “But if we don’t get Sinjenasta to Vellonia soon, he may not.” He exchanged a fraught glance with his sister.

“You’ll be okay, Bronwyn. You’ve got us.” Toran walked next to Bronwyn. Since they had met, he was never far away, wanting to stand near her and protect her from what may come.

“I won’t be okay. You don’t understand—the bond between a realmist and their creatura goes deeper than anything you can imagine. I can feel his pain, and I have a fever too—even if it is mild. What happens to
him, happens to me in a way. If he dies, part of me will die with him. I don’t know if I could survive with such a big hole in my heart.” Bronwyn looked at the panther, her eyes red and glistening with tears.

Avruellen spoke into Arcon’s mind.
If we don’t reach Vellonia soon, he’ll die. I think it’s time to call someone.

Arcon sighed.
That gormon saliva is packed with one Third Realm of an infectious punch. None of the herbs I’ve tried have done anything. I give him one, maybe two days.

So, what are you waiting for? We’re what
—
another week from Vellonia? Call someone now!

We’ve asked so much of them already. If they refuse, I’ll be more than angry. The last thing we need right now is a disagreement on our hands when we’re so close to going to war.

If you don’t call them, Bronwyn could die. Maybe not today but in a few months—if we survive that long—she’ll lose the will to go on. You know that as well as I. It’s not a hard choice, Arcon.

All right.
Arcon stopped walking. “We’re going to rest here for an hour or two. Everyone find a place to sit.”

Bronwyn looked at her uncle, dark circles under her eyes. “But we don’t have time to waste.”

As Blayke and Corrille, who had been walking behind, moved past Bronwyn, Corrille bumped into her. “Oops.
Sorry,
Bronwyn.”

Avruellen and Bronwyn both gave her a dirty look
, and then Avruellen spoke mind to mind to her niece.
If she wasn’t your friend, darling, I would have killed her by now.

Auntie! You can’t say that, although I’m beginning to think
your instincts were right.

Beginning to think?
Boh! Honestly, Bronwyn, you have to be more discerning when it comes to who you call a friend.

The young realmist shook her head.
Not now. Can you leave the lecture for another time?

Avruellen sniffed, got some water from her pack and filled a kettle.

Arcon helped Toran lift Sinjenasta off the horse. When they had settled him on the ground, Arcon said, “I’ve got a message to send, so if you talk to me, I won’t answer.” He sat cross-legged on the ground and stared into the distance.

Valdorryn. Valdorryn, are you there?

The dragon king answered immediately.
Arcon? Is everything all right?

No. I need your help. You know I wouldn’t ask unless I had the greatest need.

Go on.

We need a dragon, or two, who can come and take Sinjenasta, Bronwyn and I to Vellonia. Sinjenasta was injured in a skirmish we had with a couple of gormons, and his wound is infected. He hasn’t got long to live unless we get him to Vellonia.