Wrath of Dragons (Elderealm Book 1) Page 5

  "No," Carter said. "I think she does have a nice smile and a cute laugh, but I helped her because she needed help. You've only been around me and Master Owen. We live a good life. Out here in the rest of the world, it's a harsh place for people."

  "You don't need to tell me how harsh it can be."

  "Last week you were a dragon. Powerful and top of the food chain. What do you know about life being harsh?"

  Life was loss. The only reliable thing was that eventually everyone leaves, if not by choice, then by death. It didn't matter what the species–human, Greker, or dragon. Death was the universal common. Doug had seen it time and time again. He doubted Carter had the faintest clue.

  "It's done." Doug pushed away his anger. Arguing with Carter would get him nowhere.

  Doug crossed the hut, resting his elbows on the windowsill. On the horizon, he could make out the Anber Mountains. They were a faded blue, almost too far away to see. Beyond them lay the Scourge, and beyond that, farther to the northeast, was Dras. Once more, he was leaving what he considered home, and he hoped by Eadimor's desire that this time it wouldn't be as painful.

  Kenzie slept for hours, and when she finally awoke, she and Carter spent time playing something called Ryth. They tried to explain the rules to Doug, but he didn't understand and had trouble reading the frilly writing on the stone tiles.

  At suppertime, a girl with a cart powered by agyls brought food. Carter bought them all a round of leek soup served in bread bowls. It was a bit salty, but otherwise good. Doug particularly liked the earthy undertones that balanced out the creaminess.

  A half hour later, another knock thunked on the door to their hut. It opened, and in walked the round-faced girl and the dreadlocked man Doug had seen in the Square Boulder.

  "Sorry for the intrusion," the girl said. "I'm Alex, and this is Gideon. We overheard something and thought you should know."

  "What?" Doug put Carter and Kenzie safely behind him.

  "The man from the restaurant," Alex said. "The one the two of you fought, he's on the caravan in one of the back compartments. He's offering a whole sun to anyone willing to help kill you."

  "We can handle Jack," Carter said.

  "Maybe you can, but can you handle him and three other guys?" Gideon said. "A little bit of gold can feed a family for a long time."

  Gideon didn't smell right. Not as in bad but different, and unlike Alex, he didn't show signs of nervousness or stress. This, whatever it was, was no big deal to him.

  "I'll be sure to watch our backs," Doug said.

  "Can you?" Alex patted a pouch on her belt, jingling coins. "If not we could help, for a price."

  Doug wasn't even slightly surprised. He had seen the way they reacted in the chaos of Jack and Carter's confrontation. They had both been ready for a fight. "Mercenaries?"

  "We are travelers heading south," Alex said. "And who couldn't do with an extra coin or two?"

  "I don't feel good about this." Kenzie's knuckles were white as she clutched Carter's shoulders. Her fair face looked paler than before.

  "I agree," Carter said. "Jack thinks he is cool because he can whip out an agyl. That's amateur's work. I can do the real–"

  Carter winced and bit his lower lip. Both he and Kenzie were acting particularly strange.

  "We are grateful for the offer and the warning, but this is a personal matter," Doug said. "We have–"

  Now Doug felt it. Fire ripped through his gut. There was a swirling sensation, like being caught in free fall without being able to get his wings open. His eyes watered, and before he could stop himself, his stomach heaved, forcing the partially digested leek soup out of his mouth. It ran down his chin, leaving stringy tendrils that seeped into his shirt leaving wet, grainy stains.

  Bile overrode all other scents, and Doug fell to his knees, puking brown sludge.

  "Gorph!" Alex sidestepped a spray of vomit as Carter dropped into a fetal position.

  Kenzie made a groaning whimper that bled into a staggered gagging. A moment later, Doug felt a wave of wetness run down his leg, filling his right boot. He dared a glance and saw the rim of his boot filled to the ankle with cream-colored vomit.

  The sight of the gunk sloshing and the wetness on his toes caused his own abdomen to flinch. Before he could do anything else, he broke into another round of puking.

  Spasms rippled across Doug's body. He blinked, focusing long enough to see Gideon draw a long sword. The big man held the sword's handle with one hand while he tugged on a strap with his other hand. The cord released the sheath so it fell to the floor, allowing the blade to come out in a smooth clean motion. The tip of the oversized weapon scratched the ceiling of the cabin.

  This was it then. Alex and Gideon had feigned being there to help, but had been hired by Jack to kill him and Carter. They had poisoned the soup and were going to take them out without any effort. Doug couldn't let that happen.

  Gasping between hurls, Doug lunged at Alex. Vomit splashed as his shoulder struck her behind the knee. She screamed and fell over.

  "Don't touch me!" She kicked him in the temple with the heel of her boot.

  Doug rolled onto his back and puked again. This time, it came out like a thin mist raining down on both himself and Alex.

  "No, no, no!" Alex panted as if trying to hold her breath. Her face stretched, and her jaw dropped. Barf poured from her mouth. It was tanner and grittier than his own vomit, possibly oats or a grainy porridge.

  "You alright?" Gideon didn't look at Alex. He kept his eyes locked on the door to the cabin.

  "Yes," she said between gasps. "Just sympathetic–"

  She puked again.

  "Stay down," Gideon said this with an air of bossiness that reminded Doug of Owen. "I'll handle this."

  Doug didn't want to be handled. He didn't want to die as a human. He had to fight back. Why weren't Carter or Kenzie fighting?

  He twisted his hips and spotted them hanging out of separate windows, vomiting. Both appeared unaware that anything else was happening.

  "I won't let you kill us." Doug's own barfing had evolved into dry heaves. Distracted and annoyed, at least he could stand and make a fist.

  "Kill you?" Gideon raised a brow. "We didn't poison you. It must have been Jack or one of his men. Since you are still alive, I'm guessing they didn't use nightblade. Maybe heartlocke? If so, it's not deadly, which means someone will be coming to finish the job."

  The door to the hut flew open, the force snapping it off its hinges. Jack stood in the doorway. His right arm was wrapped in bandages, and he held his left hand out, as if preparing to trace an agyl. "What's a revenge killing if you don't get to gloat before making the kill?"

  Two men dressed in rags stood with Jack. They both had beady eyes and rat noses. Doug suspected they might be related. The rounder one held a rusty dagger, and the other a dull dinner knife.

  "It's unfortunate you and the girl interrupted this," Jack said. "But lucky for you, I am a fair man. I have no quarrel, and if you sheath your sword, I'll allow you to leave. Or you help us, I'll give you a sun to split."

  Without warning, Gideon lowered a shoulder and swung his sword. Gideon was the opposite of Carter. No whippy quips or smart responses. No talk at all. Just action.

  The flat edge of Gideon's blade smacked the man with the dagger in the face. The weight of it knocked out two molars, and the guy crumpled crying.

  "For the honor of The Silver Lady!" The butter knife bearer charged Gideon.

  Gideon backhanded the man and stomped on the side of his shin. The man's leg bent wrong. A gut-wrenching snap echoed off the walls, and Doug had to hold his mouth shut to keep from dry heaving again.

  "I gave you the chance to leave. Your mistake." Jack traced two aglys in the air. A fireball the size of a melon sprung to life and smashed into Gideon's chest.

  Gideon dropped his sword. The blast sent him crashing into the wall of the hut. The smell of burning leather overrode the acerbic stench of bile.

  Jack was
drawing a second set of agyls when Doug saw Alex. The girl, though covered in vomit, had recovered. She had drawn her short sword, and with Jack unaware, she swung at his calves.

  Like a puppet with its cords cut, Jack fell. Blood oozed from the back of his leg, and he screamed in pain.

  Alex pointed her sword at Jack's neck. "I've already cut the tendon in your leg. You move a mark, and I'll kill you."

  Doug couldn't tell if Jack had heard her. The man was hunched over and yelling slurs while pushing his palms against his bloody calf.

  "Gideon?" Alex asked. "How are you doing there?"

  "I'll need new gear, but otherwise I'll survive." Gideon's vest was charred, and blisters blotted the deep russet skin of his exposed upper chest. "I can't say that about Jack here. Clean slice. Deep. It will scar, but the question is, will we let you live long enough for it to heal."

  "I will kill you," Jack yelled. "I will find your taintson of mother and father and kill them too. If they are already dead I'll slit the throat of your gorphing dog–"

  Alex kicked Jack in the face.

  He blinked, looking stunned.

  She kicked him again.

  His eyes rolled backward, and he blacked out.

  "Sorry, I couldn't take it." Alex slipped on the sticky floor and jammed her sword into the boards to keep from falling. "What do you want to do with him? Well, all of them?"

  The two men who had entered with Jack cowered in the corner of the hut. Their already-filthy clothes were drenched in puke.

  "Your call," Gideon said.

  "Let them go." It took all Doug's effort, but he sat up. He was weak, but the dry heaving had ended. "Let them all go."

  "Alex?" Gideon asked.

  Alex looked at Doug. Her once tightly braided hair was loose with frizzy bits floating above her ears. Her clothes were damp, and her eyes were watery, most likely from puking. She was an outright mess, and yet something about her, her stance or confidence, made Doug realize she wasn't someone to mess with.

  "He's right," Alex said. "Let them go. They won't bother us again."

  Doug couldn't have made it through the night without Gideon's and Alex's help. They arranged a change of rooms and convinced the caravan's coordinator to stop long enough for all of them to bathe in the river. None of it was cheap, but Carter had enough coins to cover it.

  By morning, Doug felt fully recovered from the vomiting incident, though he never wanted to eat leek soup again. Carter and Kenzie weren't as lucky. They spent the entire next day sleeping. Alex kept herself busy, but Gideon stuck close to Doug, as if not trusting him.

  When Doug sat by the window, Gideon sat by the window. When Doug placed himself at the entrance to their new hut, Gideon sat on the opposite side.

  "What is this?" Doug finally asked. "You've been shadowing me all day."

  "I merely want to keep Alex safe," Gideon said.

  "And you think I'll hurt her?"

  "You and the boy are like fish walking through the forest. Something is not right with you two, and you shouldn't have been able to recover from the heartlocke so quickly."

  "And you and the girl aren't suspicious?"

  "Fair enough." Gideon nodded to Alex. "Came across her like you did Kenzie. She was in the woods cornered by two gentlemen who wanted to do more than introduce themselves. After I helped her, she asked if I could escort her to Elene."

  "Where?"

  "Elene. Southeast of Compitum. Surely you've heard of it?" Gideon raised his brow.

  "Oh Elene." Doug vaguely remembered Carter mentioning a place named that, but Carter constantly named too many blasted places. Doug couldn't keep track of them all. "I didn't hear what you had said."

  "What about you and the boy?"

  "He's the apprentice to a magician." Doug knew there was no reason to try and hide that fact. Carter had made it obvious who he was during the fight at the Square Boulder. "I was hired to travel with him to Compitum and back. In return, the magician plans to heal a sick relative of mine."

  "You must love your relative," Gideon said. "Protecting that boy is a full time job."

  "You have no idea."

  "I know that's not the whole story."

  "Neither is yours," Doug said.

  Gideon nodded but didn't offer further explanation.

  After what happened with Jack, Doug hadn't questioned Gideon and Alex's motives, but not once did the two ask for money or any kind of reparation for their assistance. From what Doug knew of humans, it was an odd behavior.

  8

  The Infiltrator

  Allsday, 8th of Hearfest, 1162.111

  The shapeshifter was frustrated. The goal had been to wait till everyone fell asleep and then slip out, but Doug refused to close his eyes or move away from the damn door to the hut.

  In the morning, the shapeshifter used the excuse of needing the privy compartment to slip away. Thank god for bathroom problems.

  The privy hung over the edge of an ollip's shell. It had a bench with a hole. When peering through the cavity, the shapeshifter could see the worn ground below. Taking the form of a spider, the shifter crawled through the hole and down to the ollip's belly, hiding in its fur. It bent a leg in an awkward angle, and the indigo crystal appeared at its tip.

  "Medrayt?" the spider asked.

  "I'm here."

  "The boy and dragon have left Hal and are headed to Compitum on a caravan."

  "To speak with the Sisters?"

  "Why else would they be going there?"

  "We can't let it happen."

  "I know."

  "I still do not wish to provoke Owen into taking action. However, I see no other choice. You cannot let them talk to the Sisters."

  "There is something else. Good news." The spider's mouth shifted, forming an eerily human smile "The princess is here."

  "That is quite a surprise. What is she doing there?"

  "Your guess is as good as mine, but having her could be useful."

  "I agree. I'll contact the Red Hounds and have them ambush the caravan. In the commotion, kill the dragon and the boy. Then if you have a chance, capture the princess."

  "It will be my pleasure."

  9

  The Red Hounds

  Isleday, 10th of Hearfest, 1162.111

  As far as Carter was concerned, things were going great. In less than a stint, he would get to see Compitum. He was on a quest to restore Doug's dragonity or whatever the equivalent of humanity was for dragons. Plus, he now had two new friends.

  It's not that Dale and Allison weren't cool, but Kenzie told neat stories about high life in the city, and Alex had faced more creatures and scary things than he realized were real. It was nice to meet people with different backgrounds. It gave him a better idea of what the world was like outside of Hal.

  Both were pretty, which also helped. He was a bit more partial to Kenzie only 'cause Alex acted on edge. Alex's sea green eyes had a fierceness, and she was always ready to unsheathe her sword.

  Not that Carter had time for such things. The last thing he wanted was to accidentally have a kid. Magic had to come first. He had to learn. He had to pay his dues. The rest would come. Someday. Not now. He didn't want to be like Dale, who was counting down the days till his twentieth birthday so he could propose to Allison. Dale thought their love was so grand that they would one day be as famous as Brundal and Evalore. Fat chance for that.

  "It's your turn," Kenzie said.

  Carter looked up, and it took him a moment to process. He had zoned out. Kenzie had been talking about the significance of using the proper forks for the proper courses. Alex had butted in to correct her, and Carter had stopped paying attention at that point. "My turn?"

  "You have to have some good stories about magic and being a hero." Kenzie's eyes were as dark as coffee, and the longer Carter looked into them, the more distracted he got. "Please?"

  "Alright." Carter stood and cracked his knuckles. "I think the two of you are ready to hear about the horrible dragon I chase
d down and fought."

  Doug and Gideon, who sat on either side of the hut door, both looked up at this. Carter felt his cheeks flush. Maybe this wasn't the best story to tell right now, at least not without a few alterations.

  "Don't joke about dragons," Alex said.

  "What does it matter?" Kenzie said. "Dragons aren't real."

  "Of course they are," Alex said. "They are dangerous and deadly. If you ever see a dragon, the best thing you can do is run."

  "I don't believe you." Kenzie looked from Alex to Carter. "Is she telling the truth?"

  "Dragons are real." Carter's eyes flickered to Doug, and he hoped no one noticed. "One attacked the fields outside of Hal only a few days ago."

  "I saw the burned crops on our way into town," Alex said. "I should have recognized the signs of a dragon attack. I'm surprised the town survived."

  "I trailed it from Master Owen's cottage," Carter said. "Before it got to town, it diverted north to the mountains."

  "Owen the Magician?" Alex asked.

  "Yeah, he's my guardian. I didn't think anyone outside of Hal knew who he was."

  "I've heard a thing or two," Alex said. "I'm sure most of it was exaggerated pub talk."

  Their ollip halted.

  The whole hut bucked forward and then snapped back.

  Cater rolled and banged his face against the wall of the hut. His lip fattened, and he tasted blood. The others, who had been hooked to the floor straps, were unharmed.

  Kenzie and Alex beat Carter to the window, and he had to push his way between them to see what was going on.

  Nothing seemed to be happening.

  Periwinkle streaks ripped across the sky. The sun, already behind a ridge, didn't offer enough light for them to see beyond the mountain road. Thanks to agyl lamps strung along the rope bridges, Doug could see that the caravan curved around a bend in the road.

  "I hear yelling," Doug said.

  The ollip in front of theirs let out a gurgling whistle. Its fluffy stomach swelled and ballooned out of its shell. The ollip's legs gave out, and as it fell to the ground, its intestines ruptured, spraying green goo and stringy bits. The fleshy shrapnel made wet plopping sounds as it struck the road and the side of their hut.