The Dragon' Son (39 page)

“
Valad Drakoan.
” The words hummed through the air, and a craze filled the woman’s eyes. With a loud shriek, she pulled a twisted, crystal dagger from her sleeve and drove it cleanly through the heart of a crystal table in the center of the room, creating a million cracks that spread across the surface.

“No! No! No! All my hard work cannot be undone now! It cannot! I REFUSE!” She screamed and pushed her fingers through her hair, gripping her scalp as she turned and stumbled to a window that overlooked a lake. The lake was flat and still. It stretched out for a mile, leading up to a giant, lone mountain surrounded by forest.

She stared at the imposing mountain for a long, long time in silence, until, from the mountainside, an enormous, hulking shadow leapt into the air. It extended a massive pair of wings and flapped them, pushing itself higher into the air. A bit of sunlight broke through the cloud cover in the sky. Blood-red scales glittered like rubies across the body of the enormous, airborne beast before the sunlight was once again obscured by the clouds above.

The woman relaxed. She lowered her hands from her head. A determined expression overcame her face. She squared her shoulders and straightened her dress then turned and looked at the large crystal table, the dagger still protruding from its center. She sauntered over to the table and smoothly pulled it loose, watching the cracks in the table heal and disappear until, once again, the table had a completely spotless and smooth appearance. She stared at the twisted form of the dagger.

“I have not come this far to be undone by…by a mere man,” she said, confidence growing in her voice with every word. “This dream I have had of the
Valad Drakoan
means only one thing: I must be more cautious and quicker than ever.”

She hid the dagger in her sleeve and briskly walked over to a wall where a massive map hung, showing mountains, forests, and cities. “It is time for the darker resources,” she said, gliding her hands over the map, pausing at a city marked as Elinralis. “I must now, more than ever, capture the Princess and cause her heart to cease from beating. Only then can I succeed.”

She turned and walked to the door that led from her chamber into a large hall beyond. She flung the door open and strode purposefully down a huge crystal and marble hall, looking from side to side at the tall pillars and the smooth walls behind them. She paused and turned to her right, staring at a piece of blank wall. Deep within, five human figures were encased.

Each of the figures was in a restful pose and held a sword against his chest, like kings buried in stone. Though they appeared human, they were dark and shadowy with a transparent appearance. The witch walked up to the wall and drew the dagger from her sleeve. She held up her hand and pricked a finger then waited until thick, silver blood began to flow. As the small amount of blood left her skin, her face aged and her body weakened.

“Just a small amount…a small amount for a great cause,” she whispered as she stared at her blood. “Once the Princess is dead, this blood will never again be missed.”

She put the dagger back into her sleeve and then smeared the blood onto both of her palms, making them shine. She looked up at the figures encased in the wall and stepped forward. “I must bring you forth once again, dark ones. I have great need of you.” She planted her open palms against the smooth surface of the wall. “Come forth,” she whispered, long and low.

A groan from deep within the crystal building grew, echoing up and down the hall, causing the floor to tremble. Darkness began to swirl and spread within the crystal wall. The figures within the wall began to weave and move. Their moans filled the air, and their forms grew darker, denser, and more opaque.

The witch stepped back from the wall and watched, unblinking, as the darkness continued to spread across the wall. The forms within moved slowly, like shadows dancing eerily in moonlight. Then the moaning and groaning stopped. The darkness retracted and shrunk to a pinpoint. All became dreadfully silent.

The witch did not move a muscle.

Suddenly, the ice cracked and a dark, gauntleted hand pushed through the crystal wall and stretched out menacingly toward the witch. A thousand tiny cracks spread across the wall. Instead of shattering, the tiny pieces came alive, making the wall soft and flexible, creating an exit for the black shadow to step through.

Clad in black scale armor and black robes, a tall figure emerged from the wall. He wore a black war crown over a black hood, which completely concealed his face in shadow. He was strongly built, easily towering over seven feet tall. In his hands he held a claymore sword with a serrated Damascus blade, which nearly matched his height with its length.

The witch made a small bow and watched as the remaining four stepped from the wall. When the final wraith stepped through, there was a
boom
as the cracks in the wall sealed, and it again took on a solid appearance. There was a peal of thunder outside that shook the entire building. Then all was silent, leaving the five men standing before the witch queen in the massive crystal hall.

All of them were still until the giant gripped his sword and raised it against the witch. The woman lifted her hand and glared at the once-man, her eyes turning completely silver. The wraith screamed and fell to his knees, arching his back in pain. His comrades all raised their swords but moved away instead of forward to act.

The witch relaxed and stepped back as he fell to his knees. Her eyes returned to normal, and she slowly lowered her hand. She raised her chin with a look of superiority written on her face. The tall wraith seemed to take a moment to recover. Then he stood to his feet, towering over the witch. However, his sword tip remained pointed to the floor, and his shoulders slumped in a more submissive, calm manner.

The woman looked at each of them in turn before returning her eyes to their leader. “Once, you were mortal. Once, you were mighty. Once… you were my enemies,” she said, her words dark and loud, amplified by the crystal hall. “But I took you one by one, and I transformed you. And now, you are my most trusted and powerful servants.” She lowered her chin and glared at the giant. “I have called you from the darkness yet again to serve me. You are my eyes, my ears, my hands, my powers of strength and darkness. Go now, and do my every bidding.”

The shorter wraiths bowed to her, but the taller one stooped only slightly. “And what…” he hissed in a ghostly voice, “of
Valad Drakoan
?”

The witch released a hate-filled smile. “I am Demitreah. What is he to me? I shall deal with him,” she answered. “Trouble and terrors are soon to be leashed upon him. Death will be his only wish.”

Watch for the continuation of the story in

Tales of the Wovlen: The Dragon’s Due

Tales of the Wovlen: The Dragon’s Due

Preview

Bare hands wrestled a large stone, tugging it from the earth and away from an abruptly stationary plow disk. Saul approached Keegan’s side and added his calloused, gangly hands to the other half of the heavy rock. Together, they lifted it from the ground and swung it through the air, chucking it into a pile comprised of similar rocks. Finished, they paused for breath.

“Ah, thank you, Keegan. I’m so glad I procrastinated to turn this piece of ground the last couple of seasons. Your arrival was very timely. Now I am only doing half of the work,” Saul teased as he wiped grime from his face.

Keegan smiled breathlessly, “Don’t mention it.” He pointed at a water barrel resting in the shade of the small house where the girls were cooking. “Want some water?”

Saul nodded, stepping behind the plow and taking the reins in hand. “Yes, please. Bring it to me, will you? I don’t want to stop just yet.” He clicked to Tormad and jiggled the reins, signaling to the big chestnut horse that he was ready to work again. Tormad threw his weight into the harness. His muscles bulged as he dug his hooves into the ground and pulled the plow forward, causing the disk to rip into the earth and turn on its side.

Keegan watched them plow for a few feet before he made his way to the house. The shade where the water barrel stood brought instant gratification to Keegan. He dipped his hands into the cool water and splashed some of it across his face. Then he grabbed the dipper and plunked it into the water, filling it for a drink.

As he drank, a sudden rush of wind ran across his sweaty body and cooled him. A mass of golden scales landed in front of the little house. Pharrgon, who had a hart in his right paw, looked at Keegan. The two of them regarded each other for a moment before Pharrgon lumbered up closer to the door and dropped the hart. Keegan thought he saw some concern in Pharrgon’s eyes, but an exclamation of joy broke his train of thought.

“Oh, Pharrgon! This hart--it is simply wonderful!” Alia examined the dead animal that Pharrgon had brought while Brainna clapped her hands in delight and danced on her toes.

“Venison! Oh, how we will feast! It has been so long since we had meat of any sort! How I will savor it!” Brainna exclaimed.

Keegan smiled as the girls began to lavish praises on Pharrgon’s hunting skills. They had only been introduced to the dragon eight days earlier, but already they adored him. His introduction had not been easy. For the first two days, both girls screamed in fear every time they saw Pharrgon. But as soon as the big dragon started producing food and sweet poems, the girls began to warm up to him. He even brought a few trinkets as presents from some treasure stash completely unknown to Keegan to ease their misgivings of him. When it came to charming girls, Keegan would have never guessed Pharrgon was so skilled.

Keegan chuckled at the girls now as they delighted in the new gift of meat the dragon had just brought them. He finished with his water, filled a pail for Saul, and then walked out into the field again, leaving Pharrgon and the girls to hang the hart for cleaning.

Saul reined Tormad into a halt as Keegan approached. He gladly took the water and drank straight from the pail. While Saul drank, Pharrgon took to the air and flew directly toward the two men. He landed next to them, cooling them with the wind from his wings and squashing the freshly turned earth under his massive feet.

Keegan noticed right away that Pharrgon seemed disturbed. The golden brown spines on the dragon’s back shifted up and down, and the tip of his tail twitched back and forth ever so slightly. “Pharrgon? What is the matter?” Keegan asked.

Saul lowered his pail and looked from Keegan to the dragon with a questioning expression.

“I smell something,” Pharrgon replied with a hint of a growl behind his voice. The way he said the words made Keegan think back to the day after the massacre. They had been outside the village, and Pharrgon had caught the scent of the Dorr Wolf Keegan had wounded. It made a shudder of cold anger crawl through Keegan’s gut.

“What do you smell?” Keegan asked.

Pharrgon snorted. “I cannot be certain. It is trying to mask its scent from me.”

Keegan spiked an eyebrow, and Saul asked the question they both were wondering. “Where did you smell this scent?”

Pharrgon glanced toward the Dragon’s Forest in the distance. “The edge of the forest was where it was particularly strong. However, I smelled traces of it leading here.”

Saul did not need to hear any more. He dropped his pail to the ground and began to unhitch Tormad from the plow.

“Did you see Ardor?” Keegan asked as he picked up the pail from the ground.

“Yes. He was grazing toward the east.” Pharrgon sniffed the air as he spoke, “I do not wish the girls to be alarmed.”

Keegan nodded in understanding. “Don’t worry. They won’t be alarmed if I can possibly prevent it.”

Pharrgon looked at Keegan sharply. “Be prepared to let your words fall to the wayside. I smell Master Walneff now. The smell of evil and the approach of a Dayspeaker are always cause for alarm.” With that, he spread his wings and jumped into the air. Keegan raised both eyebrows this time, and adrenaline began to pulse through his veins.

“The last time I saw him this uptight was when you got your shoulder stabbed,” Saul said as he began to lead Tormad toward the house.

Keegan nodded and instinctively put a hand to his shoulder before letting out a loud whistle for Ardor. A majestic whinny reached their ears from the distance, and a short moment later, Ardor came from around the house. His coat glistened. His mane and tail glittered. He trotted around the men, coming up alongside Keegan as they walked, but he did not drop his head and relax as he usually did. Instead, his head remained high, his ears alert, and his body tense.