***AMAZON BESTSELLER***
Fantasy/Magic & Wizards
Action & Adventure/Fantasy
Valiant escapades, wicked battles, and heart-wrenching loss await readers in this fourth installment of the bestselling Dragoneer Saga.
Hold onto your dragon!
The Emerald Rider (Book Four of the Dragoneer Saga)
by M. R. Mathias
4.7 stars – 38 Reviews
Kindle Price: $2.99
Text-to-Speech and Lending: Enabled
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Here’s the set-up:
In the wake of the Confliction, the Mainland Frontier is trying to reestablish itself. Over a year has passed since their victory over the alien shape shifter and its vicious Sarax. Jenka was infused with powerful Dour magic and has assumed some of the alien’s intelligence, but immediately after the battle he disappeared with Crimzon, and no one knows when, or if, they will ever return. With little help from King Richard, who is intent to rule the islands and leave his side of the wall to its fate, Queen Zahrellion, and the other Dragoneers are struggling to make sense of their place in the world, while unbeknownst to them an evil witch is plotting terrible mayhem.
Jenka, saturated with magic to the point of near insanity, will have to focus just to stay in the world of the living. A deranged wizard, who pits magicked priests against the demons he summons, has Clover’s petrified form and no intention of giving it up. Jenka gave his word to get her back and must go alone, deep into the wizard’s temple to find her.
Valiant escapades, wicked battles, and heart wrenching loss await readers in this fourth installment of the bestselling Dragoneer Saga. Hold onto your dragon!
Praise for The Emerald Rider:
“The action is fast and furious… discovery and magic, written in the exuberant style of the author…a fun book that I heartily recommend. ” – Fantasy Book Critic
A Dragoneer Fan Now!
“Dragons, witches, magic and other surprises pulled me in and I didn’t stop reading until it was over. Even though this is book four in the series, I wasn’t lost at all! …”
an excerpt from
The Emerald Rider
by M.R. Mathias
Copyright © 2013 by M.R. Mathias and published here with his permission
PART I
A Dangerous Visit
Chapter One
Jenka kissed Zahrellion deeply. She was pressing herself against him, as if she could make them melt together in the moment. Jenka didn’t mind. He needed this so badly he ached for her. She looked up at him and he took in the way the surreal, cloud-formed room swirled in a perfect cube around them. The soft illumination from his eyes tinted her pale complexion a bright shade of green. Even in this moment of longing, it amazed him that he saw no hint of the tattoos that once marked her face. Her beauty made his heart swell, and in her lavender orbs, he saw the warmest, most comfortable sort of love.
A trace of worry passed across her brow. She lowered her eyes and buried her head in his chest. “You don’t even know if it’s a boy or a girl.” She took a deep breath and hugged him even tighter. “You don’t even know.”
“Then tell me,” he whispered, noticing the darker tint to the clouds churning around them. A flicker of lightning came from a great distance, but the thunder that followed was a long, low grumble which seemed to grow nearer as it lingered.
She squeezed him and let out a long, regretful sigh. “I can’t, Jenka.” The warmth of her touch was fading. “This is just a dream.”
Jenka woke as the first fat drops of rain splattered across his windblown face. He wasn’t cold, but it was cool around them. He wasn’t sure where he was, but he knew he was on Jade’s back. The growing green dragon was winging them across an expanse of untended flatland. The sun was low, and they were flying toward a coppery sunset that revealed the lacy edge of the continent they’d just crossed.
A grumbling roar, from not so far away, caught Jenka’s attention, and he looked up to see the yellowed underbelly of a massive red dragon above him. As his heart slowed back down, it all came back to him.
It was Crimzon, and they needed rest. One of the fire drake’s wings had been ruined in a battle with a swarm of the savage Sarax beasts. Nothing more than the Dour-fortified spell Rikky Camille had placed on the wing was keeping the old dragon aloft. As far as any of them knew, Rikky’s spell could give way at any moment, and he wasn’t anywhere near to recast it.
The truth be told, Jenka wasn’t sure why it had lasted this long.
The old red had led Jenka and his dragon, Jade, over the mountains of southern Kar, a place Crimzon said he’d reigned over for half a hundred years. By the size of the hoard piled in the cavern in which they’d last slept, Jenka couldn’t doubt it. That was several days ago. Now they needed to recoup before crossing another expanse, the last of their long journey.
Out in the sea before them was their destination. In that not-so-distant land, a lifetime ago, Crimzon’s rider, Clover, was spelled to stone as bait for a trap. The wizard Xaffer believed that dragons could turn into humans and walk among them. He wanted to make a potion so he could reverse the casting and spell himself into a dragon. He believed he needed the essence of one of these transformed dragons to achieve his end.
Claiming to have knowledge of how to defeat the terrible shark-mawed creatures that were popping up across the land in those days, he lured Crimzon and Clover to his measly temple, petrified Clover, and then put her solid form in a place into which no dragon could fit.
Xaffer had hoped Crimzon would turn himself into a man and come get her. Crimzon, who was even then so wing-wounded he could barely fly, and bound by his rider’s wishes, made a bargain with the dwarves and over the course of a decade used their tunnels to traverse the world. Clover had committed Crimzon to battle the Confliction, and more so to prepare the Dragoneers to finish it.
They’d won that war.
Now, Crimzon believed that Jenka, in his Dour-saturated state, could pass the wizard’s wards and release Clover, especially since Jenka shared a familial bond with Jade. Jenka was determined to give it his all, even though he now knew Crimzon had tricked him. In exchange for summoning the elementals against the alien in the Great Confliction, the old wyrm had made him swear to do this. Jenka, though, knew Crimzon would have called the elementals even had he not sworn. The old dragon had pledged his whole might to that battle long before Jenka or any of the other Dragoneers were born, though, so the subterfuge was forgivable.
Jade was hungry. Jenka could feel the wyrm’s gnawing desire to feed. Crimzon was probably ten times hungrier and tired of feeling the pain of exertion. As if reading his thoughts, Crimzon spoke.
“Followsss,” he growled before moving into a position ahead of Jade.
Jenka felt his dragon comply and decided that he should rest his eyes some more. He stayed awake for days on end now, and then slept long and hard with the wyrms. It was just one of the many changes that the Dour magic caused in him. Even so, he could not stay awake as long as a dragon could fly, and they’d been flying as long as he could remember.
Soon the rain was a full downpour. They made a circling descent over a long, empty stretch of coastline. Clouds swiftly consumed the sunset and the world grew dark and eerie.
A cavern was visible, but only because Jenka’s eyes had grown keener. It opened just above a place where waves crashed into the stony shore, causing huge up-spraying explosions of frothy spume.
No men would bother them there.
It was an angry-looking area, and Jenka decided that if the cavern was empty it would make a perfect place to rest. It would be days before the dragons recouped and were fully sated. He decided correctly that it was where Crimzon was leading them. The old red hated the rain as much as he did and seemed to know exactly where he intended to go. It would definitely be better than this maddening downpour.
The dark hole loomed larger, and as Crimzon swept into it, Jenka felt Jade shiver with both relief and anticipation.
The massive cavity was anything but empty. Most of the jagged surfaces looked razor sharp, but some of them were covered in a softly glowing yellow mold that gave the place just enough illumination to see by, but not much more.
It was all Jenka could do to get dismounted and untether his gear before both wyrms were engaged in a bloody feeding frenzy. The sea cows and rock lions seeking refuge from the storm didn’t have a chance. There were hundreds of them. Crimzon was batting with his tail the ones who tried to get away, and Jade was snatching them, crunching them, and then tossing his kills into a pile. He stopped and chugged a smaller morsel down his gullet. Crimzon didn’t have to stop. He was chomping a whole sea cow while battering several more of them to death.
In a matter of moments the water sloshing and splashing around the place was pink with blood.
Jenka was tired, but smart enough to let the dragons feed. He scooted away from the sea spray in an attempt to stay dry, but no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t shake the lingering dream of Zahrellion and their mysterious child from his mind. It had been plaguing him since they’d left the Frontier, even before the child could have been born. The idea that he was not there, that even had he been there, he could not be a typical father, troubled him deeply.
The baby must have been most of a year old by now. He longed to hold it, to be the father he never had, but he wasn’t the same as the mother and child were. He had been saturated with Dour magic so completely that it left its residue all through the very fiber of his being. More than that, he’d assumed some of the alien’s existence. He couldn’t even venture into a town without causing a confrontation. His very presence put people on edge. No one was comfortable dealing with a man who had glowing coral eyes and could crush them on a whim.
He wasn’t sure if he could be a Dragoneer anymore, either. He was so changed that he didn’t feel the strength of the connection he’d once had with them. But beyond fulfilling his obligation to Crimzon, his only concern was returning to Zah and their child.
Jenka waited until his bond-mate’s bloodlust passed and then got his attention. “Jade!” he yelled, even though he didn’t need to. “Before you gorge yourself to slumber, please set me up there.” He pointed at a shelf of rock that was a few dozen feet above the damp cavern bottom. “If I am to further fortify Crimzon’s wings, I’ll need more rest.”
“You must need rest, Jenkss,” Jade slurred through his gluttonous state. “You can place yourssself theres, if you wisssh.”
Jade snaked his head over anyway. Jenka was grateful, because he was too saddle sore and distracted to attempt the simple levitation. Besides that, using the Dour for complex actions made him feel sick and uneasy. He just wanted to rest.
After Jenka dismounted, Jade eyed him for a heartbeat or two. Apparently satisfied that his bond-mate was all right, he went back to his feast. Jenka started a magical blue blaze and stripped out of his wet clothes. No sooner were they laid out did he don some dry ones from his pack and fall soundly asleep to the sounds of crunching bones and ripping flesh.
Chapter Two
Aikira was in a mood.
“Did you bring the weekly?” Zahrellion asked her as she entered the clean but modest sitting room. “They’re supposed to have the conclusion to the Piebald Egg story.”
They were staying in a small, but opulently furnished, stronghold at Three Forks. It was the best location for a kingdom seat. There were a dozen construction projects going on, including a proper castle, but it was still several years from completion. Without the vermin to harry progress, the “Expansion,” or whatever it had now turned into, was unhindered. Towns were springing up down all three of the tributaries, and goods were needed.
The Frontier was thriving.
“They do have it.” Aikira forced a smile. “You’ll like the way it ends.”
When she was around Zahrellion these days, Aikira felt like a servant to a queen, not a sister Dragoneer. It wasn’t Zah. It was everyone else out here beyond the kingdom’s wall. They treated Zah like royalty because she was royalty. They treated Aikira like an ebony-skinned Outlander, which was like being a three-headed dog to the mainland commoners who’d never traveled the islands.
King Richard had proclaimed Jenka King of the Frontier, and since Zahrellion was Jenka’s lover and the mother of his child, history said she was now some sort of Queen Regent.
The only person who disliked it more than Aikira was Zah, though, which sort of evened out the roles they were forced to play until Jenka returned… if he ever returned.
The people treated Aikira like a noble, but every time she mounted Golden, everyone, even Marcherion and Rikky, thought she was doing Zahrellion’s bidding, which she mostly was, and that just made it worse. To break the monotony, she was determined to go hunting with the boys this afternoon. She and Golden would remind them what an Outlander girl could do.
She waited while Zahrellion read, but only until the nurse brought in the baby. Golden-haired Lemmy was with them as always. Since he was a mute, he’d written a sworn statement to be Jericho’s protector until Jenka returned.
Jericho was just a year old. He was as beautiful as a baby could be, with a good temperament and an easy grin. He had his father’s unmistakable deep green eyes, and could squeeze your finger until it hurt. Crawling now, he was a handful, so Aikira kissed his pink head and spoke into Lemmy’s ear.
“She will be well irritated if she reads too long. I’ve told the nurse to tell her there is a widower and his young daughter from the peninsula hoping to have audience about something or another. They looked desperate but have patiently been waiting their turn. I think they are some of Richard’s forgotten nobility looking for help or some-such.”
As soon as Lemmy grunted that he understood, Aikira eased off while Zah was immersed. She really didn’t want to be around if Zahrellion read past her serial.
The story scribed beneath the one Zah was reading was about the lack of authority on the kingdom’s side of the wall. King Richard didn’t concern himself with the affairs on the continent anymore. Not as long as the resources he needed kept going to King’s Island. The story would have the readers believe guilds, gangs, and witches all vied like lunatics over games of chance, potions, and lust over there. Worse, the story spoke of the vile things King Richard was rumored to be doing to people deep in his dungeon. Things like Gravelbone had done to him. It made Aikira shiver just thinking about it.
Aikira had to admit Midwal was becoming more and more like a sailor’s town every day, but not nearly as bad as the story depicted. Zahrellion definitely needed to talk to King Richard, but she wouldn’t travel to the islands willingly. Aikira would stand beside her when the time came for that confrontation, but she wasn’t in the mood for politics, or tales of the kingdom’s abandonment, this day. Today she was determined to hunt vermin with Rikky and March.
*
The sound that woke Jenka was terrible. The roar reverberated around the great cavern, drowning out the waves and the grunting barks of the sea life still braving the rocks. It was Crimzon, and he was in tremendous pain.
As quickly as he could shake the cobwebs of slumber from his head, Jenka met Jade and rode his dragon’s neck over to where Crimzon lay.
“It’sss coming undone, Jenka,” the old wyrm hissed.
Jenka knew he meant Rikky’s spell was unraveling. He didn’t panic. Instead, he climbed onto hot brimstone scales and positioned himself on Crimzon’s back near the wing joints. He almost fell when the great red shifted suddenly and let out another anguished roar. Jade helped him hold steady with his tail, and without further hesitation Jenka reached into his well of alien-infused Dour and let it start flowing through him.
Hurrysss, he heard Jade whisper, but he was already sinking into the magic.
Crimzon’s wings had been gnawed by a swarm of Sarax more than once. Worse, the wyrm had stayed in a cavern down a dwarven flue for some fifty-odd years, waiting for the Dragoneers to find their time. The lengthy inaction hadn’t helped. Rikky had somehow spelled the wings and muscles in a way that allowed Crimzon to fly, if awkwardly. Rikky understood healing, though, and the loss of limbs. Jenka understood neither. He had only been fortifying Rikky’s spell, which was a simple task, if taxing. Now that wouldn’t be enough.
Jenka grasped the complexity of Rikky’s casting just as the last tendrils of it faded away. He used the Dour to try to reproduce the spell, but wasn’t skilled enough. He cursed himself for having a hundred times the power but not the knowledge to accomplish what the old red needed.
Jenka knew Crimzon had his own reasons for helping the Dragoneers in the past; it wasn’t just because Clover would have wished it. He had helped them selflessly. If the truth were told, Crimzon’s knowledge and his elemental allies had really won the day against that morphing alien thing. Jenka wouldn’t allow himself to give up so easily.
With his teeth gnashed tightly and his brow furrowed, he struggled and toiled long into the night and the next day. He put forth every ounce of effort he could summon, and then let his will carry him further, but it wasn’t meant to be. He found a way to end Crimzon’s suffering, but couldn’t make the old red’s wings work again. He just didn’t have the ability.
Making sure the wyrm wouldn’t be in pain became the priority. As he labored on, his dragon’s consciousness, and then Crimzon’s, crept into his mind.
Enough, Jade said softly.
I can survives heresss, Crimzon said into the ethereal. These fat sea cows will swim right into my maw. You mussst find her and free her without me.
I… I… I’m sorry, Crimzon, Jenka’s mind stammered. We are so close.
You haven’t failed me, Jenkass, Crimzon sighed. An eternity of frustration was revealed in the sound. You ssswore to free Clovers, not nursse me along. Xaffer’sss tower is on the northern end of the land we spoke of. It is a full day’s flight from here.
What… what should I do when I get there? Jenka was extremely spell weary. He was fading.
Xaffer wasss powerful, but he won’t have sssurvived this long. The Soulstone, however, may still be bound to the traps he created with it. It isss a powerful device the wizard used to pit men against the demonsss they sssummoned into hisss arena.
How will I know her? asked Jenka.
Clover will seem like a ssstatue, but even still, ssshe will ssseem fierce and beautiful. Most likely he kept her in the lower level of the ssstructure. But be wary. Xaffer was clever and he had a following. He created all of this so his priests could battle demons. He will have set unpredictable pitfallsss on the whole place, and Clover’s form, too. The Dour flowing through you will absssorb a lot of his mayhem. He will have had to bind a demigod or a demon to his final wardsss. He may have even–
Crimzon’s voice continued, but a great exhaustion consumed Jenka, and the slackening flow of Dour he was riding carried him gently into slumber.
When Jade woke Jenka some days later, Crimzon was sleeping so soundly that Jenka didn’t bother with the old wyrm. A generation or two had come and gone since the dragon left his rider here. Crimzon would be of little more help. When Jade lowered his head for mounting, Jenka reluctantly left his concerns behind and set out to find Clover and release her.
It was what he had sworn to do.
Chapter Three
What the heck did you hear? Rikky asked Marcherion with his mind. I don’t understand what you mean.
They were flying over the Frontier at a leisurely pace, each eyeing the mostly wooded terrain for movement as they went. March was riding his fire wyrm Blaze, and Rikky was on the smaller, quicker Silva. It was late spring and both boys were restless. The only excitement they’d had since they destroyed the alien was hunting vermin, and even that was starting to lose its appeal.
Crimzon roared out last night, is what I’m telling you. March looked like he hadn’t slept at all. His long brown hair was a tangle, and the clothes under his plated leather riding vest were rumpled and creased. He hadn’t even bothered to fully lace the armor.
Are you sure you didn’t just fart in the middle of a dream? Rikky laughed. Were you drinking that harsh stuff again?
I only drank that stuff once, and it wasn’t a fart. March was clearly mad that Rikky wouldn’t take him seriously, but he couldn’t keep from laughing. Rikky was glad, because when March got mad these days things went downhill quickly.
Only a few days ago March had sheared one of Swineherd’s pens in two trying to kill a lone goblin who’d managed to ping his head with a rock and then elude him.
Listen, you one-legged giboon, March barked.
Rikky had to hold his mirth in check.
March was rubbing at the fresh knot as he went on. Crimzon, who disappeared when Jenka did, roared out last night. Blaze heard it plainly. We asked Crystal and Golden both if they heard it, and just after it happened, too. I can’t understand why just Blaze and I would–
Probably because they are both fire drakes, Rikky observed.
I didn’t think of that.
Figures.
After a few moments of March not getting the jibe, Rikky sighed. Can you tell where it came from? I don’t think we can just ignore it, not if you’re sure.
I’m certain. Blaze is certain. It was Crimzon and he was anguished. Locating the source of the call, though… I can sense it. I doubt I could point a place on a map, but Blaze—
I cans finds Crimzonss, Blaze interrupted. I think we mussst.
Wait a minute. We? Rikky asked. Zah is a queen now, and a mother. She can’t leave. And Aikira is the Outland Ambassadora. The Dragoneers can’t just leave the people of the Frontier. King Richard won’t help them at all.
Weee, the red dragon hissed. Usss.
Just then a pair of newly uncocooned horn-heads went darting through the trees below. Silva, who had been hunting, not listening, dove after them. It was all Rikky could do to hold on as she snaked herself out of the sky. They went streaking straight at the forest, with only the slightest bit of angle in their descent. Then, with a sudden down-pressing inertia that threatened to send Rikky into blackness, Silva leveled out and took them skimming over the treetops.
Rikky nearly tumbled off of her backward as he twisted and tried to free his bow from its straps. You’ll have to make another run, Sil, he said as they passed over the fleeing vermin.
Yesss, the sleek, pewter-scaled wyrm responded, and then banked around.
Marcherion didn’t need a second pass. He put an arrow right through one of the creature’s vitals. It would die swiftly from the poison with which the shafts were tipped. As would the other one, now that Rikky had his weapon ready.
Rikky loosed as they came out of their arcing turn and almost missed the beast entirely. He didn’t like using a regular bow, but the one with Silva’s tear mounted in it did far too much damage to use on a typical hunt. This arrow tore through one of the creature’s arms. It didn’t even slow its gait as it continued to flee. Rikky counted up to nine before it pitched forward into a tumbling heap.
There! I saw something over there. March pointed.
Blaze was already winging his bulk that way. Silva had to bank around again but came out of the turn in an undulating fury of wing beats that carried them right past the larger fire wyrm. They topped a high section of trees and saw a vast orchard spread across a shallow valley. The tree rows cut across in a perfect diagonal, and the scent of nectars, or maybe peaches, filled his nose. Before he could think, a boulder the size of a barrel keg was coming right at them. Silva swerved, and Rikky hugged himself tight against her. He felt it grind over him, but managed to stay seated.
They didn’t escape harm. Rikky was spared being maimed, but the rock skimmed across Sliva’s rump and tail and sent her careening into the dirt along a row of fully grown fruit trees. Before they hit, Rikky saw an ogre as tall as the trees around it. It was about to swing a branch at Blaze, who was just now topping the ridge.
Hold on, Rikkysss, Silva hissed into the ethereal. Rikky hoped the warning reached the others, for he was in no position to call them. Limbs and leaves and whipping branches tore at his face. A very firm peach splattered across his neck and he was coated with the spray of another that impacted Silva’s scales and exploded. Rikky doubted he could hold on any harder than he was.
Not so badss. It– cras— The voice in Rikky’s head stopped suddenly.
Rikky’s heart dropped to his bowels. Losing the connection with his bond-mate so abruptly scared him. For that instant he wasn’t sure if she was dead or just knocked unconscious. Then she was there again, angry and grunting as they ground to a stop. Instinctually, they both were feeling for injury in the dragon’s wings. Luckily, Silva wasn’t hurt from the crash, but the boulder had bruised quite deeply the area where her tail met her body. She used those muscles to keep her balance in the air.
“Fuuu–” March yelled as he and his dragon went flying by.
The ogre had missed them and was now storming down the lane formed by the tree rows. It had the branch held overhead now and was roaring. Its eyes were locked on Rikky, or maybe Silva, who was gathering herself behind her dislodged rider.
Rikky’s first thought was that an ogre shouldn’t be trying to harm them; then he saw the charred ring at its neck and knew that it was one of the many ogres the Druids of Dou had collared and mindwashed. It wasn’t a comforting thought. Worse, the thing had been feasting on peaches and was in some sort of rage. It would try to defend the bountiful trees, as if they belonged to it.
Rikky realized he had an arrow drawn. The poison it was tipped with only affected the alien-blooded creatures. To this ogre it was just a shaft, but Rikky let it fly nonetheless, and then half-charged, half-hopped on his steel-shod, wooden peg leg into the next tree row as Silva met the beast.
When Rikky turned to see what was happening, he found his dragon hadn’t faced down the ogre at all, but instead had shimmied into another tree row and tripped the thing with her tail.
The ogre went sprawling and took down a few trees as it went. Then Marcherion and Blaze were landing and Rikky knew to stay exactly where he was. Lie flat, Silva! he called with his mind. Lie as flat as you can.
Yesss, she hissed, then a roaring gout of dragon flames, and the sizzling hum of March’s eye-rays drowned out everything, save for the sound of falling trees and the keening screams of the dying ogre.
Chapter Four
Jenka figured the knowledge he’d gathered from the alien shape-shifter was his own burden to bear. How could he explain to the other Dragoneers that there were other worlds, on other planets? Jenka had seen them through the memories and mind of the shape-shifter.
He knew.
Zahrellion, who was a schooled druida, and Aikira, who knew wizardry, might grasp it, but March and Rikky would only act like they did.
Even though the creature that crashed his vessel here wasn’t fond of much anything other than feeding, Jenka decided that some of those worlds out there would be pleasant. The creature’s limited thought process gave Jenka’s glimpse of it all a narrow perspective.
The fact that he understood his insight was limited was a testament to the wealth of understanding he and Jade had gathered, though. Neither had to use mental or physical voice to communicate; not even the ethereal was needed these days. They were an extension of each other, at least when they were both awake and flying. The connection between them when they weren’t in physical contact was still heightened, but not so much. No, Jenka reflected. His memory was a wavering flicker of images all lensed in green. He knew his bond with Jade had been that way before the alien, since even before they and Rikky had slain Gravelbone.
As it often did now, Jenka’s mind drifted to some random place from his past. This time it was the sky above Mainsted, where Jenka’s half-brother, Prince Richard, sacrificed his soul and the eternity of his beloved dragon, Royal, for the sake of the kingdom. Then even those thoughts faded, and Jenka sat in a daze as the wind flowed through his untended mess of brown hair.
It was a beautiful day. He didn’t know if it was spring or fall on this part of the planet, but it was clearly one of those two seasons. Considering the rotation and alignment of the orb over which he was suspended sent his mind off again. The vastness of space, and the idea that they were but a speck in it, consumed him. That lasted for some time.
The constellations and swirling bands of circular light he and his wyrm were gliding through slowly faded into clouds, which faded into something else.
Now it was Zahrellion occupying his mind. Slender and beautiful, her white hair, lavender eyes, and delicate skin still radiated exotic beauty, but then his mind applied the tattoos to her face. Circles and squares on her cheeks and a triangle on her forehead the color of old, dark wood. No, wait, Linux had the darker triangle; he was… he was… He is in a different body than his own now. And King Blanchard?
As Jade carried them over the sea, Jenka’s mind drifted even farther away. He might have fallen into a full state of reverie had Jade not trumpeted a snort of disdain at a flock of giant sea dactyls that ventured too close.
When he cleared his head, Jenka found that they were closing in on a land mass that was more like a small continent than an island. An endless strand of white, sugary sand lined an emerald green shore. A few cattle-pens, built from stacked stones, could be made out inland. The land along the shore, though, seemed like some wintery tundra full of random drifts speckled with thin clumps of prickly-looking scrub. It wasn’t snow. The sand was just that white. The contrast with the almost glowing seashore was a wonder within itself.
They rose in the sky and followed the seemingly deserted beach from a considerable height. They didn’t want to come upon a town or village and cause a stir. Then they saw a few fishing boats outside a small inlet, and what might have been a village. The road leading away from the huddle of structures went straight inland as far as the eye could see. As they continued, the shore grew rockier, but no less spectacular in color, for a few dozen yards out from the rising land was a reef just under the surface of the sea.
The colors of his eyes, Jade hissed in awe.
Jenka heard the musing, even though Jade hadn’t meant it for him. He considered that his eyes were so unnatural that his dragon would have that thought. It made him feel alien. Like he was the only one of his kind and always would be.
As they continued north, Jenka wondered what would be waiting for them. He didn’t have to wonder long, for there was a great temple built on a prominence that thrust itself proudly out of the sea like the bow of a gargantuan ship. Sitting just beside it, like some forgotten ruin, was a smaller rock building with a more modest tower. Jenka figured that was Xaffer’s old abode, but getting there now presented other problems.
You’ll have to let me off and I’ll creep into the sanctuary, Jenka suggested. The sun was getting low in the sky. It would be dark soon. There, over by those woods, but wait until full dark.
Yesss, Jade grumbled out what might have been a laugh. But you can ussse the Dour to get there, Jenksss.
I’m not comfortable teleporting and levitating, he replied.
Someday sssoon you may have to use the Dour. I would rather you tempered yourssself to the task than let it overwhelm you in a moment of crisssis, Jade lectured. I will land on the cliffs below the temple and wait for your call. Return before the sunrise or I will come for you.
Let’s search from the sky before dark falls, and no, give me three days before you come storming.
The third sunrise, then?
Yes.
A bit of circling and studying the terrain revealed that a sizable city separated the temple grounds from the rest of the land, and a sizable vineyard separated the city from the temple. The idea that there was an arena under the temples, and that demons and magicked men once fought there, was hard to believe, but the layout looked as if it were designed for defense, or maybe containment.
They concentrated their spying on the grounds of the newer temple, for the symbol in its courtyard was a larger version of the one in the older building’s open bailey. There were a half-dozen black-robed men doing precise movements in two rows of three. Another figure in a gray robe trimmed in olive green mirrored them, or led them, through the routine. They all had a staff and, what with the twirling and jabbing they were doing, they looked as if they could use them handily. Jenka hoped they wouldn’t notice his intrusion into the old place. He would follow Jade’s advice and use the Dour to get by them. They wouldn’t be able to see him, much less confront him, if he was invisible.
It may be a few levels deep, Jade, Jenka voiced. It may take me a while to find her and then a longer while to try to free her.
We must try all we can try, Jade offered. But if we cannot free her, we must end her. We promissssed to let her suffer no more.
Yesss, Jenka responded, and noticed curiously that he’d slurred his response just like his dragon sometimes did.
Jade only chuckled and then turned them around for another pass over the temple.
Chapter Five
Rikky looked up to see another ogre charging down the tree lane at him. It was a long way away yet, but no less menacing. It was a female, with filthy olive-skinned breasts the size of flour sacks bouncing crazily as it came. Hobbling through the soft dirt over toward his dragon, he crossed out of that tree row into the next. That was when he realized there was yet another ogre in the area. It was not much bigger than a man, but twice as thick of limb, and it was right there walloping him into the dirt.
Things went black, but only for a moment. He was able to roll away from the next blow. He then managed to crawl out of the creature’s reach.
Two things happened next: Silva thumped the juvenile creature into a tree trunk with her tail, and the thing’s mother crossed into the row just in time to see it happen.
The mother ogre literally ran up Silva’s bulk, bear-hugged her neck just under her head, and began choking her. Rikky had no idea where his bow was. He never carried a sword when they went hunting because Marcherion always handled the blade work at the end. March said he liked it, but Rikky knew that March just wanted to save him from having to dismount over and over again in the field. Nevertheless, there he stood with no weapon at all as an ogre was violently choking his bond-mate.
Rikky struggled to stand up. March! He screamed into the ethereal. He hobbled over to the nearest tree and leaned against it for support. From there he tried to see where his bow was. He saw Silva swing her neck around and bash the clinging ogre into a tree. It was a savage impact but the creature didn’t let go. Worse, Silva looked to be fading from the fight.
Where are you, March? Rikky screamed, his heart hammering into a panic. He could feel Silva’s need to draw breath. He knew she was nearly done. “MAAARRRCCCHHH!”
I’m here, a musical voice responded. It wasn’t Marcherion, but it was just as welcome.
Rikky looked up to see Golden sweep past Silva’s upper body. The glittering dragon ripped the ogre across its back. Three slices started like dripping lines, but slowly opened into deep scarlet furrows.
Silva shook the ogre off then, or it fell off, for she wasn’t doing much shaking. Rikky limped over to her with tears flooding his eyes. He’d been helpless. Like a lump. He loved his dragon, though, and he was relieved beyond measure that she was starting to recover.
March needs me, Aikira voiced. A limb punctured Blaze’s wing skin. He’s stuck in an awkward position. The younger ogre is hiding now, two rows over. Watch yourself.
I will. Rikky ran his hand over Silva’s pewter-plated brow. He could see his bow lying a few dozen strides away now but wasn’t ready to leave his dragon. He took a deep breath and then began exploring her wounds. He healed what he could, but Silva’s delicate esophagus was almost crushed and would take a long time before it was anywhere close to normal. Rikky was certain he would have to have the butchers at the keep grind her deer meat so she could swallow it.
He saw the other ogre once, as it darted out of the area. It was probably scared witless being without a mother for the first time.
March, are you all right? Rikky asked. Is Blaze?
It’s just a tear, but we were stuck, Marcherion finally responded. We ended two more of the druids’ lot.
I think the membrane will line up well enough, Aikira added. We’re coming to you. How is Silva?
She won’t be feasting for a while, but she will live.
Musst spell the membranes for usss, Blaze hissed.
Before Rikky could respond, Crystal, Zahrellion’s frost dragon, sent a shrill shriek of warning echoing across the ethereal.
By the time Rikky was mounted and Silva had struggled herself into the air, the others were gone. He and his dragon could not have felt more helpless.
Zahrellion was in the stronghold’s great hall hearing the concerns of a man who had once been contracted to make tack for King Blanchard’s stablemaster in Mainsted. He seemed like a good man, a man who was once proud of his work, and proud of his place in the scheme of things. The filthy little girl beside him was clutching a doll and crying simply because her father was so upset. One look at her huge, sad eyes melted Zahrellion’s heart. The streaks from the tears running down her face were the cleanest parts of her.
The man was not proud now. In fact, he was on his knees begging for employment, sobbing about the home he’d lost, and how his beautiful young wife had just disappeared. Zahrellion was going to help them. She was just waiting for him to calm down. She’d already gotten the scribe’s attention to take her command but couldn’t bring herself to interrupt the man’s desperation. Jericho was sleeping in a basket beside Lemmy at a nearby table, and the pair of door guards were patiently keeping another petitioner from entering.
No one expected what happened next.
The little girl started wiggling. Then she started doing a silly twirling dance. The man’s pitiful voice droned on and on, and then suddenly his form expanded and shifted. The little girl disappeared in a roiling cloud of smoke. Then a terrible black maw attached to some ever-changing predatory form launched itself at Zah.
Zahrellion’s protective instinct forced her to check what was happening to her son. What she saw made her icy blood burn. There was the girl, who was now a young witchy-looking woman, all bedecked in a high-collared gown and garish face paint, reaching for Jericho. Before she could think, she screamed out to her dragon, who shrieked out across the ethereal as she’d been told to do.
Lemmy’s long, thin blade would have cleaved the woman’s head, had she been in a fleshy form. As it was, the elven steel passed right through her.
The woman cackled at this, but only until she realized Lemmy wasn’t deterred. Lemmy had Jericho by the wrist and was yanking him toward the hall’s service door.
Zah met the closing jaws before her with an ear-pummeling blast of yellow Dou magic. Even though she was no longer associated with the defunct order of druids, the magic she’d learned there was hers to command. The bespelled man was flung into the rock wall and was partially buried in the crumble Zah’s blast caused.
The witch, however, was between Lemmy and the service door now. It was clear Lemmy’s sword didn’t scare her at all. She waved her arms crazily and then shouted a word that seemed to leave her mouth like a fist. Lemmy was knocked backward so hard it looked as if his skeleton was crushed flat against the wall.
Jericho was left sitting on the floor before the witch, unprotected.
It all happened so fast that the two door guards were just starting into the room. The next petitioner wasn’t who he seemed either, though. The guards were yanked backward from the middle by unseen hands and left on the floor screaming and bleeding from the holes left in their abdomens.
Zahrellion wanted more than anything to blast the young raven-haired bitch who dared attack her and her son, but the witch was holding Jericho now. There was little she could do that wouldn’t harm him, too. She was suddenly so afraid for her son that she wanted to scream.
… Continued…
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The Emerald Rider
(The Dragoneer Saga, 4)
by M. R. Mathias
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