Dragon Stones (Book One in the Dragon Stone Saga) (17 page)

Read Dragon Stones (Book One in the Dragon Stone Saga) Online

Authors: Kristian Alva

Tags: #fantasy, #young adult, #dragons, #elves, #dwarves, #dragon stones

Tallin waved it off. “Shoo! Stop bothering
us, you little pest.” The sprite scowled, crossing its arms. It
hovered around Tallin, watching his movements. Eventually, the
sprite circled Duskeye’s head, and kicked the dragon with its
little foot. Duskeye flicked his tongue out and licked the sprite,
which surprised the little creature. It flew back to the willow and
disappeared among the branches.

“Do you sense anything
here?”
asked Duskeye. He got on all fours
and circled the tree.

“No. Only the magic of the forest. Perhaps
our trip has been wasted.” They sat for a minute, thinking about
what they should do next.

“Well, if someone is hiding here, they
wouldn’t have made it that easy for us, would they? Maybe there’s a
riddle we have to solve.”

The sprite came down from the branches and
pointed to a knot in the tree. Tallin felt inside and pulled out a
flat stone. It was white, flat, and as smooth as glass.

“So, what do you think, old friend?”

“Let me see it.”
Tallin held up the stone, and Duskeye cocked his
head so he could examine it with his good eye.
“It looks like a runestone. We just have to figure out how to
unlock it.”

“I haven’t seen a white runestone in ages.
I’ve seen quite a few black ones, though. And recently. They’re
used for black magic. Lazy spellcasters use them, because they can
set a charm within the stone and leave it. But you can never
guarantee who is going to pick it up, so it’s a very imprecise way
to set a trap. The first time I saw one, it was during my first
year of study at Aonach. The black ones can be nasty, so I just
left it where I found it.”

“The white ones can be nasty, too. Don’t
they usually cause amnesia?”

“Yes. But it’s better than the black ones. A
black runestone usually causes death.” Tallin stared at the stone
for a moment, turning it over in his palm. “Pārēre!” he said, and
the stone began to glow. Carved runes appeared on its surface. It
was another riddle.

I am forever hungry,

I must be fed,

Feed me and I live,

Water me and I die.

“That old chestnut? The answer is fire. I
learned that riddle when I was a child,” said Tallin. “Now, what
completes the riddle?”

“Tallin, I think we need
to decide what we’re going to do… and fast,”
said Duskeye.

Tallin looked up and saw a swarm filling the
sky. It was hundreds of tree sprites, all coming to the Elder
Willow. They were gathering to defend it. As they touched down, he
heard their wings buzzing, like the sound of a thousand bees. They
glowed like fireflies.

While a single sprite was simply annoying, a
dozen sprites could easily kill a man, and a hundred of them could
kill even an experienced mage like Tallin. Their magic is raw,
erratic, and capricious. Sprites are powerful in numbers, because
their power is virtually unlimited—they collect their strength from
the forest itself. They noise was deafening, and Tallin’s ears
started to burn.

“By Baghra, this doesn’t look good. We’ve
got to get out of here!”

“Can we fight
them?”
asked Duskeye.

“There’s no way that we could kill them all.
There are hundreds, maybe thousands. We’ve got to figure this out,
and fast.”

“Tallin, I’ve got an idea.
Throw the stone in the air.”
Tallin
complied, and dragon’s fire erupted from Duskeye’s mouth, showering
the stone with white flame. The stone burst apart midair, like a
popped acorn, revealing a glowing key.

“Grab it!”

Duskeye reached down and flipped the key to
Tallin with his tongue. The sprites were circling around them now,
throwing rocks, pebbles, and thorns. Tallin started to feel sick.
He reached back into the knothole and felt to the bottom. There was
a keyhole. He inserted the key just in time—the base of the tree
opened up, revealing a passage that had not been visible
before.

“Let’s get out of here!” screamed Tallin,
and they squeezed through the opening. The sprites swarmed angrily
around them, but did not follow them into the tree. Once they had
entered the passage, the opening slammed shut behind them. They
stood in darkness, so Duskeye produced a tiny flame from his
nostrils to light the way.

The passage became a tunnel, lined with tree
roots, winding deep underground. “I can’t see the end of it. We’re
just going to have to walk down and hope for the best. Keep your
guard up,” warned Tallin.

The corridor was narrow, and Duskeye’s back
scraped the ceiling in some areas. After a few minutes, they came
to a larger room. It was as silent as a tomb.

“Something’s here,”
said Duskeye.

“I know. I can feel it, too. Give us a
little more light.”

Duskeye opened his mouth, and the light
flared.

There, lying in the corner of the room,
sitting quietly in the dark, was Starclaw. Her faded emerald scales
glittered in the firelight. And to her left sat her rider, Chua,
the fallen one. Tallin stepped closer—and gasped.

The dragon and her rider stared ahead with
eyeless sockets. Gaping holes remained where their eyes had once
been. And there was more. Chua sat under a blanket, but Tallin
could see that his legs had been severed. Stormclaw stood up, and
as she did so, her wings unfurled. Her right wing was almost
completely gone; it had been torn off at the shoulder. Duskeye
shuddered. A dragon who could not fly or see? What kind of travesty
was this?

They were alive… but horribly disfigured.
Tallin and Duskeye stood mute with shock. Even after what he
endured in the emperor’s dungeons, Tallin knew that this was the
worst he had ever seen.

And then, Starclaw
spoke.
“Please, dragon friend… and rider…
come and sit with us. We have much to discuss.”

***

Chapter 16:
The Orvasse River

The sun was setting by the time Thorin and
Elias arrived at Hwīt Rock. They had to stop frequently because
Thorin kept falling off the saddle. Eventually, the necromancer’s
spell began to wear off, and Thorin got back the use of his arms.
It took them twice as long to reach the river than Thorin had
originally predicted. That meant that it would be more difficult to
find passage up the river.

The outpost was a bustle of activity.
Merchants, travelers, traders, and peasants filled the streets. It
was a small trading post, but a very prosperous one. The streets
were clean and well-maintained, and private guards patrolled the
riverbanks on horseback.

“Thorin, this is a nice place,” remarked
Elias, watching the sailboats coming and going.

“Yes, the magistrate that runs this outpost
is an honest man. People know that when they come here for goods,
they won’t get cheated.”

“So…It’s basically the opposite of
Faerroe.”

Thorin laughed, “Yes, I suppose it is. I
don’t see any empire soldiers. Let’s grab something to eat from one
of the street vendors. I’m dyin’ for a hot meal.”

Elias nodded in agreement. They hadn’t
stopped to eat all day, so he was starving. “I’ll eat anything. I
have a few coppers. Do you think that will be enough?”

“Don’t you worry about that, lad. I’ve got
problems just like everyone else, but money isn’t one of them.”
Thorin pulled a little pouch from underneath his beard, and he
shook out a silver coin. “This should be enough to get us a nice
meal and some provisions for the trip.”

He handed the coin to Elias. It had been
years since he’d held so much money in his hands. “Thank you. I’m
good at haggling at the market. My grandmother taught me how to do
it without being embarrassed. She even let me sell herbs on my own.
What should I buy?”

“Buy us some hot sausages
for dinner; they’re excellent here. And see if you can find some
dried meat. They sell lamb jerky inside the fort. It’s available
year-round. Go in and ask for
quadid.
That’s my favorite, and it’s
the local specialty. Buy the sausage wrapped in black bread—it’s
hot and delicious.” Thorin patted his stomach and licked his
lips.

“Okay. Where are you going?”

“I’ll be on the docks, looking for Gremley
and the Chipperwick. Hopefully he’s here. He’s trustworthy—I’ve
used him before. Either way, though, we need to find passage up the
river tonight. Go ahead and hand me Buttercup’s reins. You won’t be
able to take your horse inside the outpost. Remember, if anyone
asks, your name is ‘Barth,’ and you’re from Faerroe. I’ll meet you
back here within the hour.” The dwarf trotted off, still riding
Duster. Elias wondered if Thorin was able to use his legs yet.
Thorin didn’t seem bothered by it, either way.

Elias walked towards the outpost, which was
built entirely from rough-hewn logs. Outside, green Ivy climbed the
walls, and there were local militia patrolling the docks. It was so
busy that merchants spilled out onto the dock. Inside the outpost,
there were dozens of tiny shops, with hundreds of people selling
and buying goods.

On the right, one man sold furs. The next
vendor sold hunting weapons. A third sold dried herbs and other
medicines. It was an apothecary shop. Elias couldn’t hide his
curiosity, and he walked up, touching the familiar medicines. The
shopkeeper slapped his hand away. “Don’t touch, boy! These’re fer
payin’ customers only!”

“I have money,” said
Elias, defiantly, pulling out his coin pouch. “I can pay—and if you
want to sell to me, you’d
better
give me a good price.”

“Let me see it, then,” said the man. Elias
showed the merchant his silver coin, and the apothecary leered,
rubbing his hands together. “Ah, many apologies, young master. What
pleases you this fine day?”

“I want two drams of dried gingerroot, a
bottle of feverfew elixir, and a tincture of hyssop,” said Elias.
These would come in handy while they were travelling.

“Sure, boy, I’ll get those ready for
you.”

“I’ll be back, then. I need to buy some
other supplies,” Elias replied. He found two vendors selling cooked
sausage outside. One sold venison and the other sold lamb. He
haggled with both men to see which one would give him the best
price, and he was able to get a nice helping of each. Then he
purchased some dried lamb.

A few minutes later, he walked back to the
herbalist’s booth and asked, “Is my order ready?”

“Yes, I have it right here.” The herbalist
lifted a parcel. “That will be seven coppers.”

“Seven coppers! That’s robbery,” said Elias.
“Those herbs would cost no more than three coppers in Persil!”

“Persil?” The merchant’s eyes opened wide.
“Is that where you’re from, boy?”

Elias stepped back, stuttering. “No. I-I—I’m
from Faerroe.” The man stepped closer to him, squinting his eyes.
He had said too much.

“What is your
name
, boy?” People were
starting to stare.

“B-Barth. My name’s Barth,” Elias lied,
inching his way back towards the entrance.

“Are you
sure
, boy? Are you sure
your name isn’t… Elias?” screeched the man, pointing at the wall.
Elias gasped. There was a reward poster with his likeness pinned
above the entrance. The reward was 100 gold crowns!
“I have to get out of here!”
he thought to himself. He spun, tucking the sausages into his
tunic, and ran.

“Stop! Stop that boy! Stop him!” yelled the
shopkeeper, while leaping forward to grab Elias’ tunic. The
shopkeeper missed, landing face first into the dirt. Elias sprinted
all the way to the dock and found Thorin waiting by a robust
sailboat. The necromancer’s spell had worn off—Thorin was walking
on his own. Their horses were being led on board by the ship’s
captain. The captain was a bearded man, tall and muscular, with
skin like a burnt chestnut.

Elias ran towards Thorin on the docks.
Thorin noticed him, and waved him on the boat. “Ah, there you
are—welcome to the Chipperwick! The captain’s name is Gremley. I
know him from way back. He’s agreed to transport us to Ironport.
The horses are already on board, so we were just waiting for
you.”

Gremley nodded and said, “Aye. Get on board,
son, and we’ll be off.” He wasn’t a man of many words.

Elias leaned in and whispered frantically,
“Thorin, we’ve got the get the heck out of here! One of the
shopkeepers recognized me! There’s a reward poster on the wall
inside the outpost, with a drawing of my face!”

Thorin frowned, saying quietly, “That is bad
news, indeed. It’s a shame, but we can’t do nothin’ for it. They’re
lookin’ for you, and you’ll just have to be more careful.” Thorin
cleared his throat, and said loudly, “Ah, Barth! It’s a shame ye
don’t feel well, my boy! I think it’s best that you go down below
and lay down.” Thorin patted Elias’ back and directed him into the
hold below.

Then Thorin turned to Gremley and said,
“He’s got a bit o’ delicate stomach.”

Gremley just snorted in response. He untied
the ropes holding the boat to the dock, and moments later, they
were off. Elias hurried down the steps and crouched down in the
ship’s hold. He heard Gremley and Thorin stomping back and forth on
deck, and soon after, the ship was moving.

Elias peered out the filthy porthole and saw
the herbalist running back and forth on the dock. He was gesturing
frantically at the guards, and shaking his hands above his head.
Elias was frightened.

Thorin came down and whispered, “Don’t
worry, my boy. We’ll be fine. There’s at least twenty boats comin’
and goin’ right now, and it’s already gettin’ dark.”

“It was horrible, Thorin. Everyone was
looking at me like I was a criminal. I’m not safe anywhere, am
I?”

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