Dragon bond the dragonwa.., p.1
Dragon Bond (The Dragonwalker Book 4), page 1
Dragon Bond
The Dragonwalker Book 4
D.K. Holmberg
Copyright © 2018 by D.K. Holmberg
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Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Epilogue
Author’s Note
Also by D.K. Holmberg
Chapter One
Wagons moved in the distance and Fes stared, counting each one, wondering exactly how many had been captured. He remembered his time in a wagon like that, and though it was brief, he hated the idea that it would happen to someone else.
It made him relentless in his attacks.
“I count two dozen,” Nick said.
Fes nodded, not bothering to look over at his friend. He didn’t need to in order to know the irritation that had worked across his face would be plastered on Nick’s. Nick had spent far longer in the back of a wagon like that, and Fes had learned that he had been subjected to a torment that he still didn’t understand. The Damhur had tried to change him, and if Fes had been with them longer, had spent more time under the influence of their Calling, they might have succeeded. Nick didn’t speak of it, but he didn’t need to.
A dozen Deshazl were with the two of them. All had been trained by Arudis, and all had learned to shield their mind from the effect of the Calling, as much as it was possible to do so. There was a trick to it, though the trick involved simply allowing oneself to succumb to the power and rage of the Deshazl magic. Fes had learned to do it on his own, but even he had learned some tricks from Arudis. She was a master and had retained the Deshazl knowledge, knowledge that had been otherwise lost for centuries.
It was their third mission. The last two had resulted in the rescue of nearly fifty captured Deshazl, all of them Called by the Damhur, who intended to drag them across the sea. So far, Fes had encountered little resistance from the Damhur. It was almost as if they hadn’t expected anyone to fight back.
He rolled behind the hillside, looking at the others with him. Only a few of them were Deshazl that he had rescued, but of those Deshazl, they were each skilled in their own way. Joey—little more than a boy when Fes had first met him—was a crack shot with the bow. He was still not much more than a boy, but he had matured, and he was fearless. Sarah had opted not to return to her family, and she was almost as skilled as Nick with the sword. She was strong, something she claimed came from her training with her brothers, though Fes suspected there was more to it. Celine had remained with him, too. Small and lithe, she was quick and deadly, and he had fought by her side during the last rescue, thankful to have her.
The rest were all Deshazl who had been traveling with Arudis, and when they learned of what Fes intended, they had chosen to come with him.
“Not good?” Sarah asked.
Fes sighed. “Two dozen wagons, probably that many guards.” His gaze drifted around the Deshazl with them. They had managed to withstand the effect of the Calling, but there would likely come a time when one of them would succumb to it, and when that happened, all knew they needed to be ready to immobilize one of their companions. That was the risk of traveling with other Deshazl, but it was also the reason Jayell had come. With her fire mage abilities, she was the best equipped to immobilize someone who might be controlled by a Calling. It hadn’t been necessary… yet.
“There were nearly two dozen the last time,” Sarah said.
“Nearly two dozen, but we came across them at night and they were poorly prepared.” And they had more Deshazl with them. That mattered.
“Do you want to send for help?” Nick asked.
Fes glanced back toward the hillside. It blocked his view, but he didn’t need to be able to see to know that there wasn’t much land remaining beyond the hill until they reached the sea. From there, it would be a simple matter for the Damhur to make their escape.
“You could have contacted—”
Fes shook his head, glaring at Jayell briefly before softening. She didn’t deserve that from him. “The Dragon Guard doesn’t believe this is a threat.”
“Because you haven’t gone to them.”
It was an old argument, and her point wasn’t entirely true. Fes had gone to the Dragon Guard, trying to get word to Jaken—a captain within the Dragon Guard who had once been something of an enemy—that the Damhur remained active along the shores of the empire, but so far there had been no assistance. Fes had not really expected it. The Dragon Guard believed that the Damhur were little more than rebels, not much of a threat. And they blamed the rebellion for what had happened at the temple. Convincing them that there was more of a threat had been a challenge.
Even Azithan hadn’t been able to help. Fes had sent word to him about the Damhur, but he hadn’t answered, and Fes had felt as if he needed to keep trying to help more of the Deshazl.
“We can wait until night,” Nick suggested.
Night was always a good time for them to attack. Most of the Deshazl had better eyesight than the Damhur, which gave them a little advantage, though it was mitigated by soldiers controlled by the Damhur, people who shared the Deshazl bloodline. They were not Deshazl, at least not in the same way as Fes and the others, especially as many of them continued to serve willingly.
“They aren’t that far from the shoreline,” Celine said.
If they reached the shore, and whatever port they planned on escaping from, there wouldn’t be any chance to rescue the Deshazl. The people within those wagons were part of the empire, but more than that, they represented a certain level of hope. They needed Deshazl to continue to fight the Damhur, and without any good way of recognizing them short of the Calling, this was the most effective way to find others who could fight with them.
“I think we need to do this now,” Fes said.
“I can create a distraction,” Jayell said.
That would be helpful. Since Fes had nearly lost her to the fire mages, she had grown in skill. Her time within the temple, time where Fes had believed her a captive, had allowed her an opportunity to continue to work and train, growing in her skill. Now Jayell was very nearly the equivalent of a second-degree fire mage, though she had not taken any testing, and from what he had heard, likely would not. Elorayne would not allow it without Jayell committing to return to the temple.
“We distract them and draw some away,” Fes said. “From there, the rest of us go in, take down as many as we can and clear out the wagons, and—”
“Fes!”
He looked up at Michael, a wiry man who had been with Arudis for the better part of a year. He was one of the more skilled Deshazl that she had trained, and having him with them had been beneficial. Michael wasn’t much of a fighter, but he didn’t have to be, especially as he understood his connection to the Deshazl magic as well as anyone.
“I don’t know how much time we have to talk about this,” Michael said.
Fes frowned, and as he did, he could feel thundering through the ground.
Not thundering. Horses.
He locked eyes with Jayell. She breathed out in a sigh before reaching under her cloak and pulling out what he once would have considered a massive dragon pearl. It was still an enormous pearl, but no longer did he view it quite the same way as he had before. Jayell no longer hesitated to use it, either. She had believed that they needed to refrain from using the pearls, thinking that the pearls were necessary to give life once more to the dragons, and they had been, only not in the way that any of them had ever believed.
The pearl began to glow orange.
As he often could, Fes was aware of the power within the dragon pearl. He could feel it, but he could feel Jayell using that power, letting it course through her as it built, rising higher and higher until it would explode out of her. She kept it contained, a tight control, a barrier that she circled around them, but he’d seen her use that barrier in offensive rather than defensive ways.
It wasn’t only he and the other Deshazl who would be aware of what Jayell was doing. The Damhur had people who would recognize that sudden explosion of power and would be ready for it. The Damhur were equally capable of mitigating the effect of the fire mage magic, especially as they controlled those who shared that heritage.
Jayell stood and turned, pushing her spell away from her.
Fes motioned and the Deshazl went racing behind the spell.
Fes lunged forwa rd.
When they crested the hilltop, he saw horses had fallen over. Jayell’s spell had been powerful, and her magic had thrown rider and horse to the ground. He raced toward the riders, not caring about compassion, cutting them down as they writhed, injured and now dying on the ground.
They surged forward, heading toward the line of wagons.
The Damhur were ready. They formed a circle, putting the themselves at the center.
“We have to get through those wagons without hurting the Deshazl,” Fes said.
Jayell frowned. “I can’t target my spell like that,” she said.
A barrier pressed around them, keeping them protected as they marched forward. Now that they had survived the first wave, they didn’t worry about exposing themselves. They had brought down eight of the Damhur, enough to more evenly match the numbers, but still too many for Fes. One on one, and he felt that the odds were in his favor. Being outnumbered, especially against an opponent like the Damhur, and Fes worried about the Deshazl with him. None of them were soldiers by training. They were all willing to fight, but willing to fight so that they could protect the Deshazl who were captured. Most were good with their weapon of choice, but they were not swordmasters. That was part of the reason that Fes wished they had the Dragon Guard with them. If they had, perhaps he wouldn’t need to worry about this battle.
Arrows came shooting from between the wagons, bouncing harmlessly off the barrier. Jayell grimaced, and Fes suspected that the effort of holding that barrier was incredible, but all she had to do was hold it for a little longer. If she could, they would be able to jump through the wagons. From there, they should be able to reach the Damhur.
Another arrow came. It streaked through the barrier, crashing into someone’s shoulder. They screamed.
Jayell grunted, power surging up through her.
“They used dragonglass,” she said more calmly than what Fes suspected she felt.
Another arrow came, and this one went through the barrier much like the last. No one was struck, but that was more chance than anything.
He looked over at Nick and Sarah, the best fighters he had with him. “We need to jump over the wagons.”
Nick’s eyes widened.
“They have some way of penetrating her spell. We won’t be able to—”
Another arrow streaked through, and Fes managed to grab it out of the air before it struck. It would’ve hit Nick, and his friend dropped to the ground, slapping his side to check for injury.
Fes turned to look at the others with him. “Anyone who is willing to come with me, I’m heading in there,” he said.
Jayell had shifted her spell and another arrow had tried to penetrate, but burned up as it went through. A hint of a smile parted her lips.
Without knowing exactly what they might face—and how many they might face—Fes, along with everyone else, knew that it could be deadly to risk heading into the center of the wagons. If their count was off, or if they had others with power within there, or…
Fes tried not to think about all of the possibilities they might encounter, knowing there was nothing that he could do to account for everything.
He made a motion, pulled on his connection to his Deshazl magic by focusing on the anger and rage that burned within him, using memories from his childhood to fuel it, and jumped.
The Deshazl magic allowed him the ability to jump much higher than he would otherwise be able to do. He landed on one of the wagons and took a quick stock of what they would encounter on the inside of the wagon circle.
His heart sunk.
There were nearly forty Damhur soldiers. A Call began to build, and the woman with the blonde hair at the center of the circle likely was responsible. The fact that she was alone with as many wagons as were here told Fes that she would be incredibly powerful, probably powerful enough that she could overpower the Deshazl with him. Hopefully their connection to themselves, the shield that Arudis had taught them to form over their minds, would be enough to keep them safe, but they had not really tested it in full.
Fes jumped.
He preferred to fight with the wagons at his back, but he also preferred to draw as many of the Damhur attackers away from the Deshazl. Fes wasn’t a soldier, but he had trained in fighting, and the last few months had made him even more skilled than he had ever been before. That, combined with his connection to the Deshazl magic, that connection which allowed him to draw from his ancient connection to the dragons, made it so that he was much more powerful.
He slashed through the first two Damhur, dropping them with the enormous dragonglass sword.
Two others stepped forward, so Fes cut through them.
Fighting exploded around him. He heard shouts and worried that they were losing too many of his fighters.
Doubt crept in. He should have waited, but if he had, then the Damhur would have gotten away with Deshazl who were innocent and had no idea about what they were getting into.
How many more Deshazl would they come after? There could be countless other Deshazl, and without having any way of Calling themselves, the Deshazl with Fes were at a disadvantage. There were probably hundreds or possibly even thousands of Deshazl throughout the empire who could be Called, potential soldiers for the Damhur, Controlled by powerful magic. They needed the Deshazl to fight on behalf of the empire and not for the Damhur.
Fire magic exploded, and the three people who had stepped up in front of Fes were thrown back. He stabbed, catching them with his long blade before they had a chance to get up, silently thinking Jayell for her attack.
Fes spun, sweeping through another attacker, the brutal fight seeming to go their way.
And then the Calling built even more strongly.
Fes became aware of it as it washed over him. He held onto his sense of self, repeating his name as Arudis had taught him to do, surging a part of the Deshazl magic with that. He was enough pureblood Deshazl that he had strength with it, but he didn’t know how many of the others with him were pureblood Deshazl. None of them really knew.
Movement behind him caught his attention, and he spun.
Eric brought a steel sword around, attempting to hack into Fes. His glassy eyes told Fes that he had been Called and was now controlled by the Damhur.
Fes swung the flat of his sword and caught him on the side of the head. Eric collapsed.
The Calling was doubly bad. Not only did it distract his fighters, but he lost numbers, people he needed to have fighting on his side. Without them, they were even more outnumbered.
He needed to draw upon the full strength of his Deshazl magic.
Since the night that the dragon had risen, reborn through the efforts of the Damhur magic, Fes had not felt the same connection to his Deshazl magic. He had tried, and he had reached for that power, but it had not swelled within him the way that he wished that it would. He remembered using that magic to explode out from him, using that to throw Damhur back, giving him space to fight, but he didn’t have that connection now.
There was only the basic Deshazl connection.
Still, Fes used that, letting what he could detect of that magic flow out from him, exploding away as he surged with the heat and fire of his ancestry.
Fes focused on the blonde woman. She would be responsible for the Calling, and if they could overpower her, it would end the Calling of his people, and maybe those of the Damhur soldiers who had Deshazl bloodlines. Fes couldn’t always tell which of them to worry about.
Power flowed through him and he pushed it out, forcing back those who attempted to attack.
It gave him a slight opening and he surged his power outward, slamming it into them again. He darted forward, carving through five people who tried to reach him. They were slow and he was fast, his connection to the Deshazl giving him that speed.
He turned toward the woman. She fixed him with an expression full of hatred. He could practically feel how much she despised him, and could practically feel how she believed him to be nothing more than an animal. To the Damhur, that was all he was. They were animals, meant to be trained and controlled, no differently than the dragons were. Though she said nothing, he could feel her magic building. It swelled, the effect of the Calling growing. This time, it was focused only on him, and not on the others with him.
