The Dragon Knight and the Light Read online

  The corner of my vision identified a green point of light held up by Ghevont’s staff. The scholar stepped closer, his cocked head and strained eyes concentrating in the same manner he sometimes gazed at a convoluted arithmetic problem or while sketching a detailed copy of his latest dissection.

  “What’s happening, Kiros?” Robin asked her partner as she too spotted the jade light.

  Dragon fire and spirals of water did not allow Kiros to answer with words. He cast a ward of his own, though it also faltered to the point that our attacks expelled it as though it were any commonplace ward.

  “Kiros!”

  “I know! I’m calling for his help ri-”

  As my companions closed in, the ground around the cousins erupted in a mass of earthen tendrils and roots, which engulfed them like a cocoon. The tendrils next began sinking back into the ground. Using an earth spell, Gerard attempted to impede their progress. I lobbed in a burning dragon stone over these shepherding strands. The top of the cocoon caught fire, but I couldn’t get the element to spread as fast as I wanted or bolster its power. More coiling soil bursting forth further quenched its effectiveness.

  Lady Vealora suddenly thrashing and rolling toward me did not help matters. Clarissa’s water whip wrapping around her stomach foiled the demented woman’s attempt to come any closer. As she lay on her back, legs kicking and head bending more than it should, Odet drew her sword and dove the curved blade into her chest. Lady Vealora squirmed and groused for a bit before becoming limp.

  The dirt shell disappeared below a horde of roots the deeper it went. With every drop of prana precious, I ceased contesting the plummeting pod and summoned three dragon stones, or what I figured I could ignite without passing out. Odet, not trusting that Lady Vealora would remain a corpse, ordered Ghevont to burn the body.

  Gerard, seeing the nismerdon crystal dimming its light, asked, “What did you do, scholar?”

  While enkindling the body, Ghevont replied, “When?”

  “Gods damn it, the obvious ‘when.’”

  “Oh, well, the crystal seemed to be naturally bonding to the nismerdon prana already propagating within the Advent. I speculated that I could interfere with their ability to enrich and steady their spells.”

  “It looks like you were right.”

  “Yes. Unfortunately, my lack of experience using nismerdon prana forced me to use a significant amount of the crystal’s reserve. I likely reduced the area I can sense hidden nismerdon prana by a significant fraction.”

  I turned back to watch the others defending themselves from flogging roots from four different gorges. “I don’t think the Advent will be doing much hiding now, anyway.”

  “Look,” said Odet. “There are more soldiers on the other side of the barrier. We sh-”

  Like an oversized iron bell being rung underwater, a resounding bellow spewed from the largest gorge, which petrified all other clamor during its existence. A thick cloud of dirt belching up from the fissure accompanied the din.

  My response to regaining my mindfulness was to run toward the nismerdon barrier. Making certain my companions followed, I looked back and shouted, “We have to go!”

  Clarissa unconsciously trailed my steps, but the other three needed my words to spur them.

  Caring more about everyone else than I, Odet yelled, “Over here! To us!”

  When in range, I threw a dragon stone and kindled its stored power. The flame wobbling the enemy ward helped illuminate the group of some twenty soldiers behind it. Seeing my endeavor, those soldiers who had been working to breach the barrier dragged their spells nearer mine.

  “Ghevont! Can you weaken the barrier with the crystal?”

  The crystal brightened once again. At the same time, I sensed my flame facing less opposition. A chunk of ward gave way seconds later. I exhausted my flame helping to get the ward’s gap wide and tall enough to fit a griffin. With earth and ice spells barring the ward’s mending capacity, I waved everyone through. Since Odet would not cross over without ensuring the city’s defenders and students had passed safely, Gerard stayed with her. Since I would not go without Odet, I too stayed within the barrier. Clarissa and Ghevont did the same.

  A booming bluster and a geyser of dirt vented from the gorge. Many of the roots had stopped flailing and slithering, and there now stood a great large silhouette of a giant within the settling dirt cloud. It took a step toward us. Its third footfall brought it out from the haze.

  Contrasting from the giant in Furubiro, this one looked to be stooped over like an old man without a cane. Nevertheless, this giant must have still been three or four feet taller than its younger variant. Also different was the fact that it did not appear to have as bloated a secondary skin to shed, thus already appearing lean from the outset. Its twig-antlers stretched longer, if thinner, than those of the first giant, and its rucked bark-skin was more evenly brown. The immovable black eye sockets appeared to be a mere fingerbreadth away from fusing together.

  Captain Shao’s kingclaw landed next to me. His rider asked, “Why don’t you summon your dragon?!”

  Almost stammering, I said, “I can’t.”

  “What did you say?”

  “I can’t! I still haven’t recovered from Furubiro. I can’t fight the giant. We have no choice but to run.”

  The incredulous captain stared at me for a bat of an eye, then, before his opening mouth said anything, Odet asked, “Where’s Hanying?”

  “Shit,” I said under my breath.

  I looked back at the area we left, recognizing two human figures running toward the southern end of the barrier. After a focusing squint, I realized they were chasing something small and black. A kitten? Without hesitation, Odet sprinted for the duo, yelling Hanying’s name. I spoke my expletive louder and pursued her.

  The nismerdon tracked us with his hollowed eyes. Perhaps aware of the reviled dragon fire I cast, I knew he was watching me in particular. It changed its lumbering strides to keep in line with its interest.

  Hanying caught up to the ball of fluff and picked it up when the barrier’s presence hampered the creature’s run. He tucked the creature in an inner pocket of his leather vest. The student behind him, a skinny youngster with much of his hair in a long braid, shouted at his friend in their native tongue and pushed him toward us.

  As we formed one group, the ground beneath us juddered. The segment of barrier alongside us darkened to the point that nothing could be seen on the other side. The nismerdon had one of its tentacle arms pointed in our direction. Gerard countered, doing a fair job of keeping the ground stable. I knew it could not last. How long had it been since this post-extinct being warred above ground? How long before it rediscovered its full potential?

  “Gerard, get everyone on the griffins and go to Tawahori. We can’t stay in Jegeru. We’ve done what we can, but we lost.”

  Anticipating my intent, a resolved Odet cast her shield around everyone. “No! We stick together.”

  A begrudged nismerdon rose his other arm. Now our feet started to sink in the loosening soil.

  I sheathed my blade. “I won’t fight you on this, princess.” Her image blurred as I looked behind her. “But Clarissa will.”

  “Damn it,” said the vampire. “I’m sorry, Odet.”

  The princess turned around to see a lash of water wrap around her right hand. The vampire pulled down, causing Odet to stumble and lose command over her shield.

  I pried my feet from the ground and ran along the eastern side of the barrier, saying, “Don’t stop until you get to Tawahori! Run!”

  At the same instant Odet angrily screamed my name, Clarissa shouted, “We’ll be waiting for you, Mercer!”

  I wish I could reassure her in return. Not that I planned on giving up my life, but I accepted the reality that there was a good chance I might not make it to Tawahori before the Advent or their armies pour into Wregor and forced everyone to relocate. Whatever happened, I trusted Odet to lead our friends however far they needed to go.
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br />   To ensure the nismerdon held its gaze on me, I lit a dragon stone and had its tempting flame trail my hand. As I hoped, my decoy maintained the giant’s attention. Maybe I couldn’t summon a dragon, but casting his flame seemed to summon an irrational anger within the giant. I felt the dirt under me ebb. My foot nearly slipped, but a surge of prana gave me a strong spring in my next step. The geyser of rock-strewn dirt thus missed me by a couple of hairs.

  After another failed attempt to entrap me, the giant turned to gawk at my allies heading for the still open breach, including most of the griffins. Captain Shao ignored the calls from Gerard and Clarissa to leave. The rider captain appeared to take it upon himself to fly higher and observe my diversion.

  Not liking how long the giant ogled the benefactors of my distraction, I ran toward the giant and threw the dragon flame. I pushed it forward until it met a nismerdon ward ten feet before reaching its intended target. That was enough for the giant to stare back at me.

  Stopping in my tracks, I said, “Can you understand me, you godsdamn tree stump!? I bet you can. I bet you remember what dragon fire did to your realm.”

  A rattling fuss quaked its throat and the air it somehow made heavier since its arrival. Twenty yards behind the giant was my goal—the gate. If I could coerce the giant into attacking me at least as far as the gate, then I figured that would grant my friends the time to put some distance between them and the Advent while giving myself the opportunity to escape. All I needed to do was get around an ill-tempered tree stump.

  I dashed to the right on perceiving the shifting dirt below me. It gushed upward a step behind me. The next fountain fluttered my cloak. I sidestepped a frontal fountain, then flecks of dirt rained on my head from the spouting earth behind me. Halfway from my goal and the giant’s casting speed was catching up to the speed of my legs giving it their all. The giant himself only moved a couple of steps, letting its spells do the impeding.

  One of those spells became less accurate when his head turned to inspect my apparent destination. Its onslaught on me stopped when the front half of his left tentacle split to become three thinner, limber stalks. They pointed at the gate. A wall of soil and rock rose to block the gate’s ingress.

  Slowing down to reassess the situation, the squawk of a griffin pranced into my ears. At the same instant I looked up, the talons of a kingclaw gripped my shoulders and upper arms. My feet left the ground on the next downstroke of its wings. Having divined my destination, the captain guided the griffin higher and toward the city wall. A cord of earth snapped up from the ground and wrapped around my leg, lurching the flight path. I unsheathed my sword and cut at the dirt rope. Snapping the tension jerked the griffin a second time.

  Wanting stability and to relieve the griffin of its burden, I said, “Drop me on the wall!”

  The captain heard me, signaling his steed to release me as soon as he flew above the wall’s lip. I landed feet first on the eight foot wide battlements without so much as a tingle in my knees. I looked back to see the nismerdon, but before my brain recognized any shape or color, a gust of wind almost knocked me over the edge. Thankfully, the parapet stood tall and sturdy, saving me from reentering the giant’s domain. The griffin wasn’t so lucky.

  The kingclaw shrieked on getting struck directly. Its powerful wings prevented it from plunging to the ground. However, it couldn’t dodge the sleet of steel splinters that came afterward. Several shards struck so fast that they pierced right through the wings. Its right wing sagged and the beast fell, thumping the side of the wall opposite me before dropping the rest of the way. His high-pitched shrieking turned into a splutter when it hit the ground.

  “Captain Shao!”

  I got to the other side and saw the captain roll away from his suffering partner to unsummon him. Another blast of air escaped from Kiros’ blade, tossing and pinning the captain against the wall and forcing me backward. I next heard a lot of stirring, rushing soil somewhere behind me. Trained instinct told me to play it safe and jump out of the way. As I rolled on the floor, the wave of dirt and rock that climbed the wall swept across the last place I stood.

  With the cousins on one side and the giant on the other, I had no choice but to scramble to my feet and run. The air rushing past my ears had the nonsensical part of my mind briefly believing I was flying atop a griffin or Aranath. The current I created in my mad dash smothered all other noise, and my speed made every object a blur. I therefore had some vague idea that I was putting some distance between me and the Advent, but I also had no solid proof of it. So I kept running.

  Running eastward, I noticed that the lower half of the sky did not appear as dark as the skies in all other directions. Indeed, a snippet of the sea twinkled the sparse rays of starlight that wiggled through the clouds. It seemed the nismerdon barrier had not been able to extend along the coast. Whether that was due to a lack of prana or coordination, I could not know, though I suppose the sea itself acted as a barricade of sorts. Only so many people could escape by ship.

  The wall bent outward toward a simple stone watchtower. There was a set of stairs running down the inner side of the wall adjacent the tower. Seeing as the old wooden door looked easy to bully through, I elected to keep to the high ground. I lowered and led with my right shoulder, using the dragon scale armor there to absorb the impact. The door burst open. No guard occupied the cramped space. They must have gone when they perceived all the commotion, or perhaps this place had seldom been defended to begin with. Whatever the case, the next door was an even weaker deterrent to my run.

  Fifty yards farther up stood another tower, this one quite rundown. From what I could tell, the wall behind this edifice looked to be in just as rough a shape. In fact, the wall stopped being a true stone structure a handful of yards away, becoming an earthen rampart overgrown with shrubs and random rubbish such as rotted furniture and torn pieces of fabric. Not keen on hacking through the manmade hill, I climbed down the steps this next tower provided. I looked out for the Advent, but it seemed buildings and gorges offered me a head start.

  Not many gorges split the ground in this part of the city, but they caused enough of a disturbance in the near distance to get people out of their homes. This observation gave me an insight into the Advent’s strategy. It made sense to concentrate the root-filled gorges and giants at the city gates, obliging any resistance to spread their manpower over the outskirts of the city. Most residents could only run from any chasm that appeared, and since the gates were a battlefield, many would abscond to the center of town and the coast, huddling into a living mass for the giants to feed on once they won the battle.

  For now, Uratama’s people remained a bewildered, scattered bunch. I kept up my run through the confused crowds, but slowed down when I caught many of them giving me alarmed looks. I realized being an armed foreigner during an attack with unknown adversaries might bring unwanted attention, especially considering I could not explain in their tongue my intentions.

  I thus did my best to stay out of sight from everyone, sprinting behind cover while keeping an eye out for the Advent. Anyway, I needed to take a respite after my full speed running. Gripping a dragon stone and sheathing my sword, I headed for the coast, wanting to mix in with people who understood the shared tongue and gain an escape by sea.

  As I made my way east, a flare-up of orange light created a short-lived shadow ahead of me. An oddly sweet-sounding, hawk-like cry proceeded it. Looking back gave me a glimpse of the promoter of light and sound. They came from an airborne blaze above the western end of the city. If I hadn’t seen that young lord’s phoenix embroidery, I would have had trouble comprehending what kind of creature I was seeing and where it came from, for I stood too far away to see a precise shape beyond a splotch of capering firelight.

  Along with Ghevont’s elucidations, I learned a bit about the marvelous phoenix bird from books both historical and poetic. Like the majority of beasts from any realm, there were several kinds of phoenix species, most able to wreath themselves
in a powerful flame when provoked. Supreme over its realm, the grand high phoenix—an eidolon allied with a Vlaukris bloodline—was the only one of its realm to have the celebrated ability to rise from its own ashes. If they matured enough, at least. Consequently, I knew this non-Vlaukris phoenix lacked such a gift.

  Although less ferocious compared to dragon fire, a phoenix’s superior command over air still allowed it to burn its flame at absurd temperatures and give it a grace few dragons matched. They used such power to fearlessly serve their matriarch, Enmera, Goddess of Sky and Wind. However, if the young lord’s age and submissiveness was any indication, the summoned phoenix promised to be a fleeting advantage. With the phoenix diving out of sight, I went back to making my way toward the coast.

  Fewer and fewer gorges presented themselves the longer I cut across the city, though the peasants that lived in the area discerned that something bad was going on due to the alien ward, far-flung screaming, and rising smoke. Nevertheless, without the immediate threat of the gorges, no one really did more than mingle in their neighborhood. I wondered if even knowing their native tongue would oblige me to take a little time to tell them about their only chance for escape. Ugh. Minutes away from my friends and I already felt like a worse person.

  Closing in on the docks, the shout of a foreign word or three sped down the narrow street I stepped in to from an alleyway. Given that I was one of a dozen people on the street, I figured the outburst was not meant for me. However, the same voice, if crosser, drew everyone’s attention to the speaker. I turned around to see a young, stout guardsman walking up to me. He brandished a glaive.

  “Do you speak the shared tongue?” I asked him.

  My words angered him further. He used his glaive to point at my sheath and then to the partly obstructed sky. The rattling of armor behind me came from two more guardsmen hearing the commotion.