“No,” said the innkeeper, “not Mansel. He’s in his room. The other man was in the stable.”
“What other man?” Zollin asked.
“The one who said he was your father.”
Zollin felt the icy tendrils of fear wrap around his heart. He sprinted for the stables.
“What is going on?” Corlis shouted.
Zollin burst into the stable and saw Quinn lying in the hay, Mansel’s dagger still protruding from his back.
Chapter 32
The dragon was soaring again. The wizard, now its master, had left it in the dirt all night and day. The humiliation had been crushing, and the beast was full of rage. The wizard had marched away with his army in the night and then traveled on to the big city near the river. The dragon had seen the city when it flew south. It was made of stone and wood, the buildings sprawling all over each other. It was full of men and beasts, and now the master wanted the dragon to fly to the city and burn the walls.
The beast could feel the wizard inside its head. It had forgotten how much it hated that feeling, every thought exposed, and the realization that it was no longer a free creature. The dragon had no idea how the wizard had learned its name. The dragon had been careless. The woman it had used to warn the villages must have spoken the dragon’s name. Now it was carved in the wizard’s crown and the dragon was a slave again.
When it had awakened from its hibernation, the dragon had thought only of more gold. Now, the dragon thought of the girl, too, but she was more than just a human, she was dragonkind. The dragon didn’t know how that was possible, but as the wizard’s commands pressed on its will, the beast dreamed of being back in the mountains with the girl. She had been the dragon’s only companion, after centuries alone. She was a fiery spark of hope. If the dragon could escape the wizard’s bondage, it would return for her.
The summer night was cool, and the feeling of wind in the dragon’s wings made it feel powerful. It approached the city from a great height. The walls were easy to see, as were the soldiers on top of the wall. They were the same soldiers it had attacked by the river. Their armor was repulsive, and the dragon would not try to feed on the soldiers: the taste reminded the beast of the wizard who had come into the mountains to kill it. In the dragon’s own lair the wizard had sent small shards of razor sharp metal flying into its mouth. The pain had been intense, but the dragonkind girl had healed that, too.
It dove, pulling its wings close to its scaly body. The wind roared against the dragon’s eyes, causing the beast to squint, but that only helped it focus on a single target. It flared its wings at the last possible moment. The air caught in the leathery wings and stretched the dragon’s breast muscles almost to the ripping point. Two hard flaps and the dragon’s fight had stabilized enough for the beast to roar before spewing fire across the southern wall of the city.
* * *
Offendorl watched with glee as the dragon breathed fire and death onto Orrock’s city walls. The dragon was massive and at first almost invisible. It was like a shadow above the bright city, but then the dragon’s own fiery breath illuminated the scene. Offendorl could see the gleaming scales, the long, curved talons, and even the horned ridges on the beast’s head.
“Send the message,” Offendorl told the kings.
King Belphan seemed offended, but King Zorlan was now a true believer in the Torr’s power. Using the dragon was the perfect loophole, Offendorl thought. He could let the dragon do the carnage and still claim not to have taken part in the battle.
King Belphan disliked that Offendorl used a golden crown to control the dragon. The King’s jealousy was perfectly understandable to the wizard. Offendorl hadn’t planned things this way, but with the dragon he felt invincible. He would force King Felix to turn Zollin over to the Torr and then there would be nothing to stop their total domination. King Belphan recognized that the crown represented Offendorl’s superiority over even the kings of the Five Kingdoms. His rule would be more direct from this point. The die was cast and there was no stopping it.
“King Felix must concede to our terms,” Belphan said. “This has to be about more than the wizard, Offendorl.”
“The boy is just the first step, Belphan, how often must I explain this?” Offendorl said cruelly.
“King Belphan, if you please, Master Wizard. I am the sovereign ruler of Osla. The problem with your plan is that it does not address our concerns.”
“Without Zollin, the Yelsians are doomed. They cannot venture out of their city, and the threat of the dragon will keep them in line with whatever demands you place on them.”
“We have your word you will support our demands?” King Belphan said.
“Yes, of course, just send the messenger.”
The dragon had made three fiery passes and now Offendorl was calling the beast back. He fully expected King Felix to reject his offer. Perhaps he did not have Zollin after all. Offendorl could no longer feel the young wizard. Somehow the boy had learned to shut himself off from other magic users. But if King Felix didn’t have the boy yet, he would move mountains to get him. That was all that mattered.
* * *
Zollin ran to Quinn. His father was still alive, but just barely. The knife had come down just below the heart, but it had punctured Quinn’s left lung, and the bleeding was on the verge of causing heart failure.
“He’s alive!” Zollin shouted.
Then his mind dove into his father. He rerouted the blood that was filling his father’s lungs. Slowly he drew out the knife and began healing as much of the damage as he could.
“The dragon!” came a terrified shout.
Even inside the stable they could hear the beast roaring. It shook the ground like thunder and then followed the screams of panic. The horse reared in the stall, kicking against the wooden door.
“What the devil is it now!” cried Hausey as he and Corlis ran outside.
Zollin stayed focused on his father, but it was only seconds before Hausey was back at his side.
“It’s the dragon, Zollin. The beast is here. Come quick!”
“I can’t, my father could die.”
“It’s breathing fire on the walls,” Commander Corlis shouted. “Get the men off those walls!”
“This is why the King sent for you, Zollin,” Hausey said. “I’ll see to your father, but you have to stop the beast.”
“I just have to get him stable,” said Zollin.
“It’s coming round again!” Corlis shouted. “It’s hitting the north wall this time.”
Zollin was having trouble concentrating. He knew he was doing only a mediocre job on his father, but it would be enough to buy him some time.
“Zollin!” Hausey shouted. “We can’t wait any longer.”
“Move him into the castle!” Zollin shouted. He had pulled the knife completely out and sealed up the wound, but Quinn’s lungs were still in bad shape and he was bleeding from gashes in his hand, face, and shoulder, too.
“He’s stable for the moment, but I want someone with him all the time.”
“I’ll see to it personally,” Hausey said. “You have to stop the dragon.”
“It’s heading for the east wall,” shouted Corlis.
“I need someone to stop Mansel. I want him alive.”
“I can do that,” said Corlis. “What’s he look like?”
“He’s a big warrior with shaggy hair,” Hausey said.
“The innkeeper should be able to point you to him,” Zollin said. “But be careful. He’s skilled in combat.”
“As am I,” Corlis said with a smile. “I won’t let you down.”
Corlis rushed off as Zollin tore down a stall door to use as a stretcher for his father. He levitated his father onto the board and then levitated it up and out of the stable. Hausey had to run to the castle to get men. They came rushing to Zollin and took hold of the corners of the door his father was laying on.
“Get him inside and safe, Hausey.”