Rise of the Blood Masters (Book 5) (12 page)

“Well, look who’s finally awake,” Fëanor said, gesturing toward Tallin. “You’ve had a good sleep,
half-ling,
snoring like a contented hog for days and days. I thought you were never going to wake up. A single hit and you went down like a bag of sand. You mortals are such fragile creatures.”

“Untie me, you bastards,” Tallin said, kicking his bound feet up and down. The skin on his wrists and ankles stung as the rope dug into the flesh. The more he struggled, the more the ropes tightened.

A strange light flickered in Carnesîr’s eyes. “Please don’t aggravate him, Fëanor. We need the dwarf to be cooperative.”

They were talking about him like he wasn’t even there. Tallin wanted to scream and throw a thousand curses their way, but he forced himself to remain calm. Angering them wasn’t going to do him any good. “Cooperative?” Tallin asked. “What makes you think I’m going to cooperate with you?”

Smiling sweetly, Carnesîr said, “Don’t force our hand. I would prefer to avoid using…
questionable
interrogation methods.”

Tallin glared at him and strained against his bonds. He flinched when the ropes tightened again.

“Don’t bother trying to escape,” Carnesîr said. “The ropes are enchanted, and I cast the spell myself. Trust me—you aren’t going anywhere until I release you.” He walked in a slow circle around Tallin, checking the ropes carefully.

Tallin looked around the room. His mind was clearing now; things were becoming real again. “Where am I? Where have you taken me?”

“We’re still in the same forest,” Carnesîr said, “about a league away from the Elder Willow. Fëanor is quite adept at nature spells, so he constructed a proper shelter for you. Wasn’t that nice of him? This is a hollowed-out tree that wasn’t hollow a few days ago. It took a fair amount of energy to create. You should be thankful.”

Backwards elf logic,
Tallin thought.
I should be thankful that they didn’t kill me.
Tallin leaned back against the wall. “So what do you want?”

“Just a little information. Tell us what we need to know, and we won’t have any problems.”

Tallin kept silent, and Carnesîr stalked angrily to his side. “Look… we know that you overheard us. You know very well what we’re talking about. Don’t play stupid with us.”

“I’m not talking. I don’t care what you do to me,” Tallin said.

Carnesîr’s voice became low and honey-sweet. “I would hate to cause you needless pain. Come now… tell us where the dragon’s nest is. We checked on it a day ago and now it’s gone. Where did the female move her nest? Tell us… we only want to help you.”

“You can forget it. I’m not telling you anything,” Tallin repeated.

Carnesîr’s smile became darker, but he continued. “We only want to help. We want to protect the eggs. That’s all! Think about the future of dragonkind. Why don’t you just cooperate with us? Tell us where they are. Be reasonable.”

Tallin stared straight ahead, as if he hadn’t heard him. A loud buzzing filled his ears and kept getting louder as the seconds ticked by. He winced. His protective wards had been activated. Luckily, he always kept his warding spells refreshed. But that wouldn’t work forever. Eventually the strain would be too much, and he would pass out again.

Trying to block the elves’ manipulative spells was draining, painful even, when they were physically close.

Carnesîr tried again, this time with a scolding voice, like a schoolteacher talking to a naughty child. “Don’t make this difficult! We don’t want to force the information out of you. Mortal minds are weak. We can force you to tell us anything we want to know. Truly, I would prefer if you would just tell me.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” Tallin said, grimacing. “Once I tell the other dragon riders about this,
they’ll
be the ones making things difficult for
you
.” The buzzing in Tallin’s ears amplified. He tried to ignore it, but his head felt like it was going to split in two.

Fëanor sighed. “This is ridiculous! Please remind me why we’re negotiating with this dwarf?” He jabbed his finger at Tallin. “Just tell us where the eggs are! We’ll force you to tell us!”

Tallin glanced at Fëanor, a mocking smile tugging at his lips. “You can certainly try, you insufferable, arrogant bastard. You can certainly try. But don’t hold your breath. I’m quite good at resisting elf magic.”

Carnesîr’s smile dropped. “We are very determined.” He spit the words out like cannon fire.

“I’m sure you are,” Tallin said.

“Well, have it your way then. The hard way.” Carnesîr reached out and placed his hand on Tallin’s shoulder. Tallin closed his eyes and prepared for the inevitable. He knew this wouldn’t be pleasant, but how far would they really go? As Tallin felt Carnesîr’s magic begin to surge, a scream erupted from outside. The elves spun around.

“That’s Amandila’s voice!” Fëanor shouted, and they both fled outside. Tallin wiggled his body toward the entrance and peered outside.

Duskeye was there, belching fire and smoke as he rampaged through the forest.  He swung his enormous head from side to side, smelling the air.
“I know Tallin is here! Give me back my rider!”
he bellowed.

There were multiple fires burning behind him. Duskeye opened his jaws, scorching the trees with a stream of fire. Branches burst into flame, sending up plumes of black smoke.

Amandila hid behind a giant elm, peeking out from the back with terrified, rabbit-like eyes. Duskeye sent a column of fire in the elf’s direction.

“Help me!” she cried out to the others. Tallin watched as she ducked back behind the tree. She wasn’t using any magic to defend herself. He figured she was torn between wanting to defend herself and not wanting to injure one of the few remaining dragons.

Fëanor moved forward to help her, but he was too late. Duskeye roared, shooting a spiraling gout of flame in her direction. She had the wits to summon a shield in time to block the fire, but she wasn’t fast enough to avoid Duskeye’s swinging tail.

Duskeye hit the elf so hard that she vaulted through the air, hit a tree trunk, and crumpled to the ground. She balled up into a circle and moaned. The dragon moved forward, his muscled legs gliding over the tree roots.

Duskeye blinked his good eye and snarled,
“I can sense Tallin’s presence. My dragon stone tells me that he’s here! Where is my rider? Tell me now, or I’ll fry you both to a crisp.”

“Let me take care of this,” Fëanor said, stepping forward. He raised a glowing palm. “Be calm,
dragon-friend
. We don’t wish to hurt you.” Coils of light danced on the elf’s fingertips. His voice was cloying—seductive and enticing. The air filled with a sickly-sweet perfume.

Duskeye hesitated and moved back, his nostrils twitching. Fëanor smiled, whispering softly while the fire raged around them. “Yes, yes… I am your friend, and you shall obey me.”

Duskeye swayed back and forth, and his eyes glazed over.

Fëanor moved closer and closer, coaxing and nodding. When the elf was within a few steps of him, Duskeye sprang on Fëanor. The elf screamed and his hands flew up to his face. Duskeye grabbed the elf by the neck and squeezed, flexing the elf’s hollow bones under his grip. Fëanor’s eyes bulged, and he clawed desperately at the dragon’s paw.

"You fools! Did you really think I could be deceived so easily? Your pathetic faerie spells have no effect on me. I am warded against your trickery!”

Fëanor squirmed in his grip, then gasped and went limp. Duskeye jerked the elf into the air and flung his body as far as he could.

Fëanor hit a tree with a loud thump and fell to the ground. The furious dragon spun around to face Carnesîr. Duskeye reared up on his hind legs and advanced, his face a mask of rage.
“You’re the only one left, elf. Would you like the same treatment as your friends?”

Carnesîr jerked backwards, his hands raised. “Now, now, let’s be civilized, shall we? There’s no need for violence.”

“Where is Tallin? Tell me now! I’ll carve you up without a second thought,
elf, believe me!” 

“I am not your enemy, Duskeye!” he replied, his lips twitching. He kept stepping back, but Duskeye matched his pace.

The dragon stared him down.
“For the last time, where is my rider?
Release him now or I’ll burn this entire forest to the ground. You might escape, but those two unconscious friends of yours won’t make it. Immortal or no, nothing can survive being charred to a crisp.”
The dragon’s voice sounded like crushed gravel.

“Binvigi!”
Carnesîr shouted. A pulse of searing energy shot from his hand and hit Duskeye’s thigh. The dragon howled, his leg buckling underneath him. Duskeye let loose another stream of flame. Carnesîr summoned a shield and blocked it.

From behind, Tallin cried out, “Duskeye! I’m over here!”

The dragon pulled himself back up and turned again on Carnesîr.
“Release him now, or by the gods, you will feel my wrath.”

Carnesîr squirmed under Duskeye’s hard glare. The elf chewed his bottom lip and looked anxiously at his friends.

Amandila and Fëanor were both unconscious. Fëanor’s arm was bent at an unnatural angle. Even from a distance, Carnesîr could see it was broken. The elf’s shoulders sagged. “All right!” he finally relented, raising his hands in surrender. “I’ll release the dwarf.” He flicked an index finger in Tallin’s direction. “
Halda-Lauss.”

The enchanted ropes fell away and Tallin stood to his feet, rubbing his tender wrists. “Thank you, friend.” He went over and embraced Duskeye tightly.

“I was hoping you would find me. The elves kept me unconscious, and they cast a spell to prevent me from contacting you.”

“I know. I’ve been searching this area for days. I could sense your general location, but I couldn’t pinpoint it. As soon as you awakened, I knew exactly where you were. The dragon stone called out to me like a beacon. Elves can’t control everything.”
He leaned forward, carefully inspecting his rider.
“Did they hurt you?”

“No, no. They sure threatened me, but they didn’t harm me,” Tallin said. “I’m a dragon rider, after all. They wouldn’t have killed me. The elves aren’t that contemptible.”

Just then, he felt dizzy. Tallin staggered on his feet as the world began to spin. He leaned against Duskeye’s side and closed his eyes. His skin itched and his face felt unbearably hot.

“What’s wrong?”
the dragon asked.

“Elf magic,” whispered Tallin. “It’s wearing off,” He grit his teeth, fighting waves of nausea as the elvish spells died. His carefully crafted wards never faltered, but blocking elf magic always had physical repercussions.

He gulped air until the wooziness passed.  Then he turned to Carnesîr, who was standing nearby. The silver-haired elf didn’t look the least bit sorry. In fact, he seemed to take pleasure in Tallin’s discomfort.

“Why did you do this?” Tallin asked. “What do the elves want with this dragon’s nest?”

Carnesîr sniffed. “I’m not at liberty to say. Our queen ordered us to retrieve the dragon eggs and take them back to Brighthollow with us.”

“But you’re a dragon rider, too! For
Baghra’s sake!
Why would you do something so cruel to the female? You know that dragons can go insane if they lose their nest. Shesha has suffered enough already!”

Carnesîr’s face colored a bit. “Look, I have my orders. The queen told us that the nest is in danger and that she wanted to save the eggs. That’s all.”

A short distance away, Amandila groaned and sat up. She ran her fingers over her ribs and grimaced. Seconds later, Fëanor woke up, his breath coming in shrill gasps. “My arm!” he cried. “My arm is broken!”

Amandila crawled over to Fëanor and placed a glowing hand on his chest. She shot Duskeye a look. “His arm is shattered, and so are two of my ribs!”

“You’ll live,”
Duskeye grunted.
“Don’t expect me to feel sorry for you after what you’ve done. You shouldn’t have tried to hurt my rider. Maybe next time you’ll think twice before you do something so stupid.”

Amandila scowled, but didn’t respond. She stayed by Fëanor’s side, healing his injuries with magic.

“You roughed them up quite a bit,” Tallin said quietly.

Duskeye shrugged.
“I wasn’t trying to kill them, otherwise they would be in far worse shape. Besides, they aren’t my concern. Wolves don’t concern themselves with the opinions of sheep.”

Tallin gave a short bark of laughter. He knew the elves would never apologize, but neither would he. “I see your point.” Tallin turned around and spoke telepathically to Duskeye.
“Where is Shesha? Are the eggs safe?”

“Yes,”
replied Duskeye.
“As soon as I received your message, I moved them. Now they’re near the desert border. I warned Shesha to be vigilant and not to leave the nest unattended. If she senses any more danger, I told her to fly to Parthos with the eggs. She wasn’t happy about that, but she promised she would do it. She trusts us, at least.”

“Good,” Tallin said.

By then, Amandila and Fëanor had limped over to where they were standing. Fëanor had healed most of his injuries, but he still had to lean against Amandila in order to walk.

Carnesîr had regained his composure and was now smiling. “Now that we’ve stopped all this pettiness, I do hope we can have a civilized conversation.”

Tallin felt like raging at the elves for what they had done. Instead, he let out a deep breath and answered calmly, “How can you possibly expect me to forget this took place? You, Carnesîr, of all people, should know me better. You took me hostage. You held me against my will. You separated me from Duskeye. And now you want to sit and chat like we’re old chums?”

Carnesîr paused for a moment before replying. “We did what we thought was necessary. It’s a very complicated issue.”

“I’m sure it seems that way to you. You’d better tell me what this is all about, or I’ll send a message to the dragon riders that I was kidnapped by the elves. That won’t bode well for you, I promise.”