Chaos Descending (3 page)

“If I go, it will only cause more harm than good,” Lorik said. “Yettlebor will see it as a threat.”

“So we’ll send an emissary to prepare him,” Issalyn said. “I’ll go.”

“You’ll be in danger,” Lorik said.

“No,” she argued. “I won’t be. Yettlebor may be a grasping, power-hungry despot, but he is no fool. If he hurts me, there can be no doubt that you will destroy him. What he needs is a way to gracefully concede to your right as king. The first step is to meet with him. You can do that, right?”

Lorik didn’t want to say yes. He wanted to keep Issalyn with him in the King Tree, to hold on to their languid, peaceful life among the Drery Dru for as long as possible. But he knew that if he forced Issalyn to stay, she would only grow to resent him. He had put off the inevitable as long as he could. Now, he would have to face the responsibilities that lay on his shoulders whether he liked it or not.

“Yes,” he said, trying not to let his own resentment show. “Of course I can do that, but surely we can send someone else.”

“Who?” Issalyn asked. “The Drery Dru will not go, and there isn’t anyone else.”

“I can send Stone and Vera,” Lorik said.

“That’s not prudent and you know it,” Issalyn said. “I like Stone and Vera, but they aren’t exactly diplomats.”

“They know me better than anyone. Vera is my oldest friend.”

“Yes, I know that. Your family took her in when her parents died. She’s like a sister to you, but that doesn’t make her the right person to represent your interests to the king.”

Lorik didn’t respond, even though he wanted to. Issalyn turned away, but Lorik could see her ears turning red and guessed that her face was flushing. She had called Yettlebor the king, and Lorik was not so smitten that he didn’t realize the true meaning behind her words.

“Go, and have safe travels. I will be along shortly,” Lorik said.

Issalyn’s whole body was stiff. Eventually she hurried away, choosing not to say anything at all. Lorik watched her leave and felt the inevitable shifting of his world. He’d felt it before, when Vera and Stone left the Marshlands and Lorik had been left behind. Now he was being spurred into action by the same feeling of unease that had seized him when the Norsik invaded. He would have to march into his enemy’s lair and face the demons he knew were waiting to bring everything he cared about crumbling down around his ears. But at least he would have a few days of peace once Issalyn left. And he would get to see Stone and Vera again. His friends had chosen to build a home in the fertile land just south of the Wilderlands. Perhaps they might even join him on one last foolish adventure.

Chapter 3

It was getting late and Brianna knew she needed to go back home, but she was flying on the back of a dragon named Sorva, sailing around the pinnacles of enormous mountains and dashing through puffy white clouds. It was exhilarating to Brianna, who had no fear of falling. In fact, she often jumped from one dragon to the other. The entire pride was flying together, matching speed and staying in a tight formation with no need to communicate. The dragons were in perfect sync and there was a feeling of ecstasy being part of the group.

Brianna loved her life. She had welcomed the months of languid pace after being in danger and constantly on the move for nearly a year. She had enjoyed building the house, although she didn’t play a very big role in its construction. And she loved Zollin, although she had to work harder of late to convince herself that her feelings were real. The truth was, pregnant or not, she’d grown bored and was now thrilled to be going on a tour of the Five Kingdoms. The pride of dragons weren’t as keen about the idea, but Ferno insisted on going. The big green dragon was still very protective of Zollin, and Brianna loved that about the powerful beast.

Tig, the small blue dragon that had lost its twin to Bartoom, a giant black dragon enslaved by a wizard in Osla, didn’t want to come. The small dragon still seemed to be in mourning, and Brianna worried about Tig. It was possible the dragon might never be okay, but there was nothing Brianna could do to ease the beast’s pain. She had conceived all the dragons in the Five Kingdoms except for Bartoom. Using her power as a Fire Spirit to melt the rock of a mountain, she dove deep into the center of the massive monolith. Then, in the very heart of the mountain, she’d found the gold to make each dragon’s heart. Her creation of the incredible creatures was a fevered dream to her now. She hadn’t slept or eaten, or even taken the time to rest between making the dragons. She formed their bodies from solid rock around hearts of gold. It almost seemed like a dream to her, but each of the dragons around her was living proof of her work.

She didn’t control the dragons—they were fiercely independent. The pride was something they formed for kinship, not control. She couldn’t force them to come south or to carry her on their strong backs, and she wouldn’t even if she could. The dragons saw her as one of their own, an elder—even though she was still in her teens—but not really a mother, and certainly not their master. Brianna had seen Bartoom, the great black dragon, forced to follow the evil wizard Offendorl’s will. Bartoom had resisted for days, but in the end, the beast was powerless. It was a situation that haunted Brianna. She knew her dragons were safe in the highlands, and she was zealous about preserving their independence. Still, she needed at least two to carry her and Zollin south.

Sorva was the only black dragon that Brianna had made. Before her time in the mountain, she had spent several days with Bartoom, who was an ancient and extremely powerful dragon. Brianna had not wanted to recreate such a unique creature, and so Sorva was different in many ways. The scales along Sorva’s body were glossy black, just like Bartoom’s, but that was where the similarities ended. Sorva was smaller, though still a large dragon, stretching thirty feet from head to tail and ten feet tall at the shoulder. Sorva had a broad, flat head with large eyes and even larger nostrils. Where Ferno, the green dragon, was thick and powerfully built, Sorva was really only large in the hind quarters. Sorva could jump high into the air using only the back two legs. The front legs were more delicate and graceful. The talons on Sorva’s rear legs were large and useful for grabbing and ripping prey. The front legs were more dexterous and the talons longer.

Sorva had carried Brianna after Selix had fallen in battle. She had taken Brianna south to Osla to find Zollin after the final battle with the witch’s mutated army. And then Sorva had carried her north again, but now the black dragon seemed reluctant to leave the highlands. Brianna didn’t want to force any of the dragons to come with her, and she knew that if she asked they would all come. What she wanted was a willing companion for the journey. There was no telling what shape the southern kingdoms were in, and she needed a ferocious steed, not a reluctant slave.

The pride of dragons was flying south again, and Brianna could see the Great Valley in the distance as twilight fell. She wondered what Zollin was doing and felt a pang of guilt at her trepidation to return. She was carrying his child after all, surely that should have made her feel more affection for him. Instead, she felt a growing apathy. She loved Zollin, but he was different since the great battle and not just because he was no longer a powerful wizard.

Zollin had recovered from his battle with the witch very slowly. Not in the physical sense, but emotionally. It was as if his sense of adventure had completely deserted him. All he talked about was the cottage and mundane things around their small home. Brianna had tried to be content, and for a while she had been, but eventually she simply grew bored. She felt bad for manipulating Zollin into thinking the trip south was his idea, but she didn’t think he would have agreed to go otherwise. She wanted him to want to go, to want to face new challenges with her at his side, to explore the world before other concerns tied them down permanently.

The dragons dove down into a narrow pass, changing formation so they could fly single file. The pass twisted and turned, making the flight perilous and at the same time exhilarating. Just like the dragons, Brianna loved flying through the narrow canyons as fast as possible until they finally came to a small clearing with several small caves where many of the pride nested when they were in that part of the extensive mountain range.

Sorva slowed as they circled the clearing and then landed gracefully in the center. The dragon’s big, black head turned on the long neck and it looked at Brianna with large brown eyes that were flecked with green, gray, and blue. A mental image appeared in Brianna’s mind. She saw herself riding Sorva and Zollin riding Ferno. Brianna couldn’t help but smile.

“I’m so glad you’ll come,” she said, stroking the dragon’s thick neck. “We leave the day after tomorrow, at first light.”

Sorva nodded, then growled, “Two days.”

The dragon’s voice was rough, almost like the sound of glass being ground under a boot heel, but the dragons rarely spoke verbally. They understood words but preferred to speak using mental images. Sorva’s words were a tribute to Brianna, a way of showing respect among the pride.

Brianna smiled and nodded, then slid down off the rough scales. Most of the other dragons were still circling above, but Brianna didn’t wait for them. She jogged back along the well-worn path that led around the large hills that hid the clearing from the Great Valley. Then she climbed to a small cleft that gave her a view of the river, her cottage, and in the distance, the lights from Brighton’s Gate.

A running start allowed Brianna enough momentum for her light body, altered by her transformation into a Fire Spirit, to soar out over the expanse of the river. Brianna couldn’t fly, but she was able to glide on wind currents so that she sailed over the river and landed gracefully just feet away from the door to the small cottage.

She could already smell the aroma of well seasoned vegetables being simmered. She felt her stomach growl and was thankful to be home, but there were times when the little cottage felt like a prison. She had truly loved spending her nights with Zollin and the dragons outdoors underneath a sky so full of stars she couldn’t count them all. She did her best to appreciate what Zollin did for her and to remember that for a time she had enjoyed the process of building a home together.

Her face was flushed from the cold air outside as she opened the door. It was the beginning of autumn and in the Great Valley the temperature plunged once the sun set. She could have sent fire pouring over her skin or had the dragons breathe fire to keep her warm on her flight with the pride, but she didn’t want to ruin her clothes. Stepping into the little house, she immediately felt the warmth from the fire, and the enticing aroma of the meal Zollin was cooking made her mouth water. He looked up from where he was sitting and smiled.

“You’re back,” he said happily.

“I am.”

“Just in time for supper.”

“It smells wonderful.”

“I hope it tastes as good as it smells,” he said. “We’re getting low on salt.”

They ate sitting in comfortable chairs by the fireplace. Brianna sipped her wine and sat with her bare feet only inches away from the flames in the hearth. Zollin talked about all the details of their trip—what they would need and the route they should take.

Brianna was only vaguely aware of the conversation. Her mind was on the baby and what being a mother would mean. She wondered if she could be happy as a parent watching over a group of children. She didn’t think so. One was enough for her. She didn’t want to be like her own mother, and she didn’t want to be tied to one place. One child seemed manageable. Beyond that, things might get complicated, and Brianna couldn’t stand the thought of more complications.

The next morning they set out for Brighton’s Gate. The walk took them an hour, but they weren’t in a hurry. Zollin had a list of things he wanted to purchase for their trip, and they were excited to share their good news with Quinn and Mansel. The path led beside the river and the sun was warm on their shoulders. The valley spread out around them, and the mountains were like silent guardians standing watch. Brianna remembered when they had first come to Brighton’s Gate. She had been so relieved thinking that the small village was a place of safety. Instead they had found outlaws, assassins, and eventually a dragon that destroyed the entire town.

They heard the sounds of construction long before they reached the edge of the little community. Some of the buildings had been constructed of stone and had survived the dragon’s onslaught, but most of the town had burned. The villagers had mostly been spared and had spent the last year rebuilding their homes. Quinn, a carpenter by trade, was busy helping put the finishing touches on many of the homes that had been rebuilt. There was still much to be done before winter fell hard on the Great Valley, and Quinn, along with Zollin and Mansel, felt a sense of obligation to the town. Brianna became nostalgic whenever she came into the village. She had been desperate not to be marginalized when they had first come to Brighton's Gate, but she had been a completely different person then. She had come to Great Valley as a girl, innocent and naive, but now she identified herself as much dragon-kind as human.

“I’m going to get supplies,” Zollin said as they turned onto the fire scorched cobblestones that made up Brighton’s Gate’s main avenue. “See if you can find Quinn.”

Brianna nodded and turned onto a smaller path that led away from the town’s larger stone buildings and toward the sounds of construction. There were hammers pounding nails and saws cutting wood, but there was also laughter and voices full of hope. Brianna passed several young women returning from washing near the river, and she could smell baking as she wandered between the small homes.

She spotted a group of men working on the rooftop of a newly built home and guessed that Quinn would be there or nearby. Brianna was making her way toward the builders when an older woman stepped into her path. The woman was large with hunching shoulders and a bulging midsection covered with a large gown that looked more like the sail of ship than a dress. The path was narrow and the woman did nothing to make enough room for Brianna to pass by.