Warlock Apprentice, Black Lake Novel 4

Chapter Fifty-Three

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Iza, with Morgan and Louisa on her back, continued due south. The two ogres raised a hand in farewell, for the time bein’, as the black Kyn’loch veered westerly for the lair he shared with his sire and dam.

Would I indeed meet Morgan and Louisa that afternoon at the Hamlet? I looked forward to seein’ goblin Avar again too. A trifle doubt lingered. Tried to remember the words Morgan claimed the ancient Ash’et used. I assumed her invitation to visit again was just a pleasantry, as strange as it would strike anyone, that the ancient dragon would bother offerin’ a pleasantry to a human. But why had Ash’et’s bull-son been so obtuse—that’s a cool word—insistin’ that I was to see the queen before continuin’ to the Hamlet?

The emotions I sensed from Kyn’loch were more indifference than anythin’. Certainly nothin’ forebodin’. The current task irritated the dragon. Didn’t care for totin’ humans about. Was beneath him. He didn’t appreciate whatever it was his siblings found appealin’ in their two-legged companions. And after gorgin’ on five elks the previous day, he preferred to be sunnin’ right now, as he knew his sire and dam, and all his brothers were doin’.

The plains sped below us, the mountains neared, and my chest tightened more. “What exactly did the queen say, about bringin’ me to her?” I shouted again to Kyn’loch.

He, again, ignored me.

I sat, tryin’ to slow my racin’ heart.

I caught the broad outline of the gold and brindle outstretched wings against the dark basalt before I recognized the broad openin’ of the lair. Kyn’loch stopped thrustin’ his wings and soared, turnin’ slowly, back and forth in his descent.

Kyn’loch’s words flowed into my mind. “She’s eaten, so you don’t have to worry she’ll dine on ya.”

“I think back at Morgan’s expression,” I answered, “when ya said ya’d be takin’ me to yar queen.”

The dragon trumpeted softly, thankfully in humor. “Yes, he did worry.”

Evidently that was all Kyn’loch had to say to me. The downward spiral tightened and I braced for landin’.

The dragon landed softly, fifty feet below his slumberin’ gold and brindle parents. He extended his foreleg. I slid down his shoulder and jumped down to the rock. I peered up into the face of Kyn’loch for direction, but the bull acted as though he wasn’t aware of my existence.

So, just walk up to the queen?

I stood there as Kyn’loch shuffled to form a depression in the gravel. Several moments later, dust billowin’ about us, the dragon’s bulk folded upon the Earth. His head floated down, neck curvin’ to the right to hide his head under his thirty-foot-long, extended wing. He was definitely done conversin’. I sensed the dragon’s dull exhaustion of oncomin’ sleep.

I turned and faced the rise. Both of the older dragons were awake, though their eyes remained closed. Though I didn’t hear the words, I had heard the two greet Kyn’loch as we approached. I walked tentatively toward them. The queen’s outer lids raised a quarter. The bull evidently held no interest in whatever I was here for.

“Tell me yar impression of the Northern wizards,” the ancient queen drawled.

I jolted still. My mind didn’t seem to work. But the dragon didn’t exude any ill feelin’s. I took a deep breath, swallowed, and began slowly. “They’re like any other bein’. Care little about those thin’s that mean nothin’ to them. Are ready to battle anythin’ that threatens what they’re comfortable with.”

“Ahh,” the dragon said. “Such profound thoughts from a human. An incredibly young, human.” The hint of a rumble echoed from her chest. “Simple minds fear change. Would ya not agree?”

That blankness stole over my mind for several long moments.

“Continue,” she said.

“I took part in killin’ three of the Northerners—”

“So I was told. Yar first, I imagine.”

I shivered. I couldn’t imagine I lived the reality of this moment, havin’ such a—I didn’t have a word for the conversation I was havin’, with a dragon. Hard to believe. Could I be dreamin’?

“Continue.” Her inner lids opened to display gray-green eyes.

“I don’t know what I can tell ya. Morgan, or the wizard, Lord Nador, could give ya a better understandin’ of how the Northerners take us.”

“Us? Ya mean, we dragons, do ya not?” Ash’et raised her chin off the ground.

“They fear ya. Like the worst nightmare.”

“As they should.” The air the words floated on hit me like a gale. For an instant her eyes turned darker.

I remained silent, trippin’ through a dozen fears, most frequently, what did the ancient dragon want of me?

“Ya’re one of few words,” she said.

“I, uh—”

Her chest rumbled softly.

A ten-count later she continued. “I understand ya wish to use the Northerners to educate ya, then come south, teach in the Hamlet.”

“Aye. Well, no. Not use. Lord Rutland honors me—”

“Yes, yes, my time on this Earth is too short for tact.”

Her brindle mate lifted his head and caressed her neck with his forehead. Her eyes whirled, turnin’ a brighter green, until he stopped, and lay back down.

I swallowed. Tried to relax. The muscles in my back and shoulders threatened to cramp.

“I won’t be here long to protect my last nestlings,” Ash’et said. “I insist on peace. Anyone not willin’ to live in peace must be eliminated. Do ya understand?”

I gaped. I think.

“Close yar mouth, lad. Ya may catch somethin’ ya may not wish to swallow.”

“Aye, ma’am.”

“Ya’re not mine to command,” she said after a long moment, “but I challenge ya with a life-mission. A worthy one.”

I recognized the slack in my jaw again, and swallowed.

“I foresee ya completin’ important deeds for man and dragon kind,” she said. “No, I claim no profound prophecy. I sense the pain in yar heart for those ya killed, for the wizard who lost his hand.

“They met their appropriate rewards for their poor decisions. They are not worth the anguish ya refuse to expel. But that which the pushy ogre sensed in ya is strong, purposeful.

“Stand tall. The Nadors of my time were mongrels. This latter day lord has a spine and character. He’ll be a good mentor for ya. I do see him keepin’ his interest in ya. And if he trusts this Rutland fellow, he cannot be too bad, for a human, and a wizard.” Her chest vibrated.

“I sense a Rutland lady destined to fawn over ya,” she continued.

My mind jolted, until I realized Ash’et had to mean Nickie, and not Lady Rutland.

The dragon chuckled. “Together, the two of ya will bridge the races. Those who composed the Covenant got one thin’ right—creatin’ a buffer of peace out of the Range, where goblin, and elf, dwarf, and dragon could eventually come back together to heal.”

Her eyes closed, and she lay her head back down. I turned hot. Was our time over? Was she done with me? I repeated her last words, tryin’ to understand how such lofty goals could possibly apply to me.

“That obnoxious ogre,” she said without openin’ her eyes.

I jerked again from my mental wanderin’.

“Who bonded with the dragon Iza’loch puts up with.”

She had to mean Ike.

“He has the strength of purpose and charisma to command an army to keep peace. Ya’ll work with him, manipulate those without the intelligence to realize the races have nothin’ to fear of each other.”

I vibrated with intimidation from the dragon’s implications. “I’m just sixteen,” I mouthed.

Several moments passed. The subtle change in her breathin’ implied she slept. Her dreams were of Iza’s future fledglings she’d never meet. Tears welled. I wished to give Ash’et some—physical acknowledgement of her worth, and thanks, at least a hug. How did one hug an enormous, sleepin’ dragon?

Instead, I backed slowly away. I was steps away from Kyn’loch when the dragon’s mind entered mine.

“We all must die. But she has many years to enjoy the sun still, and be pampered by my sire and me.”

I caught a sob.

“Come. Let’s collect yar hen siblings.”

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The End

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Thank ya for readin’ Warlock Apprentice. I hope ya enjoyed it. If ya did, please consider recommendin’ it to someone else.