Dragons of the Dawn Bringer: The Goddess Prophecies Fantasy Series Book 5 Read online

  As she drank, a cold, dark feeling crept over her skin and the hairs on her neck rose. She froze, her ears pricked for the slightest sound.

  There came no noise, just a fleeting dark shadow as a wire noose slipped over her head, tightened around her neck, and dragged her backwards. Issa slammed hard against the huge, metal chest of a Dromoorai, the sickly sweet stench of the undead filling her nostrils and making her gag. How had she not smelled the Sirin Derenax before now? How had she not heard anything?

  She tried to scream—for Asaph, Ehka or anyone—but the noose lifted her off her feet and tightened until she couldn’t breathe. She squinted through watering eyes into the darkness. Ehka was on the ground, unmoving in the grass.

  Grimacing against the pain, she kicked backwards, smashing her soft boots into hard metal shins and hurting her heels. Her hands grappled for the wire around her throat, trying desperately to loosen it. She struggled uselessly as an impossibly strong hand bent her arms back, one after the other, and tied them.

  The Dromoorai made no sound except for its heavy rhythmic breathing as though each inhale and exhale were made through a tube. She quickly felt faint and her struggles lost their strength. Her head started to pound and her heart thundered madly.

  Between the trees towards the camp, a figure appeared and paused, swaying. The Dromoorai turned to face it. Marakon? Issa thought. Blinking through the tears, she choked, trying to scream to catch his attention but failing. Why wasn’t he running to fight? Surely he could see the Dromoorai? Tears streamed down her cheeks. She gritted her teeth, feeling her consciousness slipping away.

  Marakon’s white eye blazed into light and he fell against the tree trunk groaning as if he struggled against something within himself. Had a Life Seeker taken him? Marakon gasped and clutched at his head as if possessed by a demon, then he stood straight and came stalking towards her, his face set in a fury.

  ‘Now I have you,’ he said in a voice that wasn’t his, but Baelthrom’s.

  Issa’s legs gave way and she sagged. Terror turned her heart into a hammer. Blackness seeped around her—or maybe she was passing out. The cord loosened and she gasped in a breath, wincing in pain as it scoured her bruised windpipe. The Dromoorai still held the noose in one hand and crushed her against his chest with the other so she couldn’t get away. Not that she could if she tried, her body was as weak as a child’s.

  ‘Marakon, please help me,’ she rasped, tears streaming down her cheeks. Marakon had to be in there somewhere, if she could only reach him.

  Slow, impossibly heavy footsteps shook the ground. There came a loud snort from behind and the rotting odour of sulphur assaulting her nose told her a Dread Dragon was near. Her insides wobbled but she was already too terrified to succumb much further to dragon fear.

  The Dromoorai grabbed her hair and pulled her head up, forcing her to stare into Marakon’s blazing white eye. Marakon’s face contorted in pain as his eye slowly turned red—red like Baelthrom’s.

  ‘Marakon is gone. I control him now,’ said Baelthrom. ‘Bring her back to me.’

  The Dromoorai lifted her. Issa struggled to find the Flow but there was only the thick, cloying blackness of the Under Flow. Without a word, the Dromoorai turned and slung her over the Dread Dragon’s saddle. She wriggled furiously and tried to kick at the Dromoorai. It grabbed her legs and wrapped wire around them, yanking it so tight she gasped. A mouldy piece of cloth was rammed into her mouth making her retch.

  The Dromoorai pulled itself into the saddle beside her and gripped the huge clanking reins made of chains as the dragon stood up. Breathing hard against the gag, Issa stared down at Marakon. Why wasn’t he fighting? How could he let this happen? Dear goddess, what had happened to Ehka? Where were the soldiers? Why couldn't anyone see what was happening?

  ‘Marakon,’ she tried to scream past the gag but only a muffled noise came out.

  Something in the trees growled, then a beastly roar ripped through the forest. The Dread Dragon paused and whipped its head around.

  The roar was echoed by two more. Ferns and bushes shook violently between the trees as something huge bounded towards them.

  ‘Marakon!’ a female voice howled.

  Issa strained to see through her sweaty strands of hair plastered to her face. A strange sight appeared at the edge of the trees partially hidden by foliage. A brown-skinned, blindfolded woman with very short hair rode atop a giant, roaring bear. The woman was dressed in sackcloth and holding aloft a glowing staff. She was flanked by two other riderless bears.

  ‘Get away!’ Marakon screamed at the woman in his own voice. He thrashed and fell onto his knees, clawing at his face.

  ‘Go, now!’ Baelthrom roared at the Dromoorai as Marakon writhed.

  The Dromoorai yanked on the reins and the Dread Dragon lifted its head and beat its wings.

  The blindfolded woman screamed. Light pulsed from her staff, blasting into Marakon and flooring him. The riderless bears roared and bounded towards the Dread Dragon. One leaped, gaining a shocking height for its size, and landed on the dragon’s tail. Lumbering up the dragon’s horny spine, its thick claws ripped into scales. The other bear attacked the haunches of the dragon with its teeth.

  The Dromoorai pulled out its claymore but the bear was already upon it. A huge paw knocked the sword away with such force that the surprised Dromoorai lost its grip on it. Issa watched the black metal blade glinting as it spun down to the grass below. The bear reared and hurled itself at the Dromoorai, knocking it from its saddle. Bear and Dromoorai rolled down the dragon’s side and hit the ground with a thud.

  Wriggling madly, Issa started to slide off the Dread Dragon but caught her bindings on a spiny horn. Dangling by her feet, she managed to dislodge the gag with her tongue and spat it out.

  ‘Bring her!’ Baelthrom roared through Marakon.

  Obeying the command, the dragon kicked the bear attacking its haunches and sent it rolling through the grass. Temporarily free of its harasser, the undead beast flapped its wings again and lifted into the air. Issa screamed as loud as she could. Surely the whole army would have heard her and all the commotion by now but why weren’t they here?

  The ground fell away with shocking speed. The dragon turned in a sickening arc as she dangled by only her feet. She would fall to her death if the Dread Dragon didn’t kill her first.

  A blaze of fire torched the night sky in an arc of light. Issa hunted for the source but could see nothing from this angle. The Dread Dragon howled as it was suddenly shunted violently sideways. Issa’s bindings slipped off its spine and she fell, screaming.

  Between the tumbling trees and stars, a golden dragon hurtled towards her; blue eyes flaring, ears held flat against his sleek head and huge teeth bared. The Dread Dragon was on his tail.

  A tree tip slashed her face just as Asaph’s claw wrapped around her. The rushing air stopped, leaving her body trembling in stunned shock. With barely a pause, Asaph landed, laid her on the grass, and turned and leaped back into the air to meet the attacking Dread Dragon.

  Issa rolled onto her side. To her left, the Dromoorai fought three bears and the woman. Marakon writhed on the grass, clutching his head and screaming. A cold black shadow slithered beside her, then tiny cold hands grappled with the wire around her throat. She blinked into the barely materialised, ugly face of Maggot. Barely two feet tall, the tiny Shadow Demon’s big yellow eyes were wide and his red tongue hung out.

  ‘Maggot?’ Her voice was ragged. Had he really just appeared from the demon world or was she seeing things?

  ‘I knew you were in trouble,’ he said as the wire came loose in his small hands.

  Issa lay there gasping, finally able to breathe properly and deciding her unlikely friend from the Murk was indeed real. Maggot undid the bindings on her wrists and she shook them off, reaching down to free her ankles.

  Jumping up, she ran to Ehka with Maggot following on furiously beating stubby wings. Gently she turned the bird onto his back. His eyelids flu
ttered and his claws moved a little. She couldn’t see any wound or blood on him. Perhaps magic had stunned him.

  Grabbing her talisman, she held it over him. With a command, indigo light blanketed the bird. He twitched and gave a slight croak. One eye opened. Thank the goddess he was still alive.

  Issa glanced ahead. One bear lay unmoving on the ground, with badly ripped ears and dark blood soaking its fur. The other two fought on against the Dromoorai.

  She gripped her sword and was about to run and join them when the Dromoorai fell, watery black blood spraying from its throat. It shuddered violently then was still. The blindfolded woman dropped Marakon’s blade. Issa stared, wondering how the woman could see to kill the beast.

  The two bears sniffed the fallen corpse and flinched away. One went to the other fallen bear and hung its head. Issa swallowed a lump. There was no saving the bear lying still.

  Marakon groaned, got onto his knees then collapsed back again, blood trickling out of his nose, ears and eyes. Issa pulled the Flow through the talisman, now finding the Under Flow weakened. She took a deep, steadying breath and focused on the man. Was Baelthrom still in him?

  Sheathing her sword—she wouldn’t be needing it—she took out the orb. Holding talisman and orb high, she pulled harder on the Flow and stepped slowly and deliberately towards Marakon. Maggot followed behind her heels. Baelthrom still fought for control of the man’s body—she could feel his unholy presence thickening around her as she neared. Sweat beaded her forehead. She forced down the fear. Marakon’s life was at stake.

  ‘Get out of him,’ she snarled.

  It had been Marakon all along. The realisation made her pause and stare at the possessed man. Somehow, he had led the Dromoorai here. Had he been working with Baelthrom since the beginning? Betraying them all? Fury exploded within her, blotting out all reason. The man had betrayed them. He must be destroyed.

  ‘You traitor!’ she screamed. The words seemed too stupid to express the hurt and betrayal she felt inside. ‘We trusted you with our lives!’

  The man howled and writhed on the ground. The veins in his neck stood up and he clawed at his face, making deep welts in his skin.

  ‘Marakon!’ the bear-riding woman shouted. She limped towards them, swinging and tapping her staff in front of her like a blind person.

  ‘Shield,’ Issa commanded the orb. A shimmering blue dome flared around her and Marakon, forcing the blindfolded woman back and blocking anything that might attack or disturb them.

  ‘Get away,’ Issa hissed at the woman. ‘This man is a traitor. A spy!’ Her words made her even more furious. She would kill Marakon herself.

  ‘He doesn’t know what he is, what he carries,’ the blindfolded woman pleaded frantically, pressing herself against the blue dome that was as solid as glass. She slapped her hands against it. ‘I’ve come here to tell him. Please don’t hurt him. I can help.’

  Issa barely heard the woman as she turned back to the commander groaning at her feet. He jerked and convulsed, then his white eye opened and glared at her.

  ‘Come to me,’ Baelthrom’s voice commanded through Marakon’s lips. His voice moved around her, cold and draining like the Under Flow.

  Maggot squeaked and clung to the back of her leg. She had forgotten the demon was there. A heavy, woozy feeling came upon her. Her hand holding the orb trembled and her grip became sweaty and weak. She swallowed hard, her pulse throbbing in her ears. It took great effort to slip the orb out of sight into the sack tied at her belt.

  Ignoring the voice and focusing on her actions, slowly and deliberately she pulled out her sword. The tremble in her hand became violent tremors that shook her whole arm. Her sword began to burn in her grasp and she fought to hold onto it.

  ‘Come to me,’ Baelthrom’s voice echoed around her louder, even inside her own head.

  She raised her sword but it burst into fire and she screamed, dropping it. Marakon howled, clamping his hands to his temples. His eyes turned entirely black and his hands whipped out and clawed the air as if trying to reach her. The Under Flow seeped from his palms. Black magic spewed into the dome, easily and swiftly overcoming the Flow. Issa’s protective shield became her prison, plunging her into choking icy blackness.

  The talisman burned in her grasp and the orb pulsed at her side. Protect the orb! She had to protect the orb! Her body stepped forward through no will of her own. She gritted her teeth, fighting for control of herself and the Flow. Marakon’s eyes blazed in the dark, the only light she could see. She tried to look away.

  ‘Use the talisman, Issy,’ Maggot squealed from somewhere far away.

  It seemed to take an age for her arm to lift the throbbing talisman in front of her.

  ‘Come to me,’ Baelthrom’s voice boomed all around her.

  Marakon raised a hand out of the blackness and her body betrayed her as she reached for it. He gripped her wrist in an iron clamp. She screamed as deathly cold filled her body and mind. He began dragging her down to him. She had to fight the cold. She tried to jerk away but his strength was absolute.

  She strained to lift the talisman to her chest. With a scream, she slammed it against her torso and fell onto Marakon. The raven mark burned, pushing back the cold. Indigo light flared from the talisman, fighting back the blackness of the Under Flow.

  ‘A’farion. A’farion. A’farion!’ She screamed at the rushing din as the battle blazed between black and indigo magic. But her words came out so slowly it seemed time was stopping.

  The world trembled and lurched. She felt herself being torn in two as the spell tried to take her to the realm of the dead and Baelthrom battled to hold onto her.

  Marakon was screaming beneath her, his chest heaving, but she clung to him with the raven talisman pressed between them as the world wrenched between two opposing forces.

  2

  Lifting Curses

  THE blackness bulged and rolled away.

  Issa fell into silver light still clutching Marakon. They thudded onto hard ground, Marakon’s scream catching up with them.

  She let go of him and staggered onto her knees, her raven mark burning. His white eye bulged horribly and his eyelids were peeled back as if he couldn’t blink. He choked and quietened, his face ashen. As his screams died, he became stricken, as if paralysed.

  Panting, she whipped up her sword and held the raven talisman high, half expecting Baelthrom to appear before her. When he didn’t, she looked around. A grey, deathly silent place assaulted her ears as the din of before echoed away.

  Maggot was a shadow to her right, Ehka a few paces to her left. The raven was awake but listing on his side, his wings splayed to steady himself.

  Issa dropped her gaze back to Marakon. His eye glared at her and her breath caught in her throat. She was looking directly at Baelthrom.

  Through the burning hot pain in his eye and the madness in his mind, Marakon blinked in darkness up at the woman. Not a woman, a goddess. She was swathed in midnight blue and covered in stars. Only her perfect chin and lips were visible from within her hood.

  Zanufey.

  The wind moved her cloak and she said nothing, though he could feel her eyes upon him. Something very wrong was happening to him. He fought for control of his body as something utterly evil and dark tried to fill it, shoving him aside. Pain radiated through him as if his body was tearing itself apart from within.

  Even as the pain ripped through him a contrasting serenity began to seep in. Soon, waves of calm flowed over him. In Zanufey’s divine presence, the evil began to scatter and the pain receded. He groaned in relief as his senses returned. Blinking, he looked around. He was on his back and couldn’t move. A desert plain stretched out all around and into the far distance. A star-filled sky wheeled above.

  ‘Blessed Zanufey, where am I?’ he asked, alarmed when his voice came out a croak.

  Pain exploded in his eye again and he screamed. Baelthrom’s helmeted face surrounded by raging red fire filled his vision. The Immortal Lord held ou
t a huge hand and slowly clenched his fist. Marakon’s heart squeezed as he did so. He gasped and writhed, sweat beading then trickling down his face.

  Zanufey filled his mind again, cool and dark, driving away the pain and chaos. Then Baelthrom returned bringing raging fire and agony. Marakon howled, his eye burning in unseen flames. Zanufey returned and between her and Baelthrom, between agony and madness, and soothing calm, his reality flipped.

  ‘Help me!’ he screamed. What was happening to him?

  ‘Marakon.’ In a moment of calm, a voice he recognised called from far away. His heart lurched at it. He longed to be with that voice.

  ‘Jarlain?’ he rasped. What was she doing here? Had he gone completely mad?

  The pain receded, the crushing fist around his heart relaxed, and the images of Baelthrom and Zanufey went.

  He opened his eyes. A grey, lifeless world appeared. He lay upon the cold hard mud of a battlefield in the aftermath of war. Everyone had been slaughtered; bodies were strewn everywhere, pale and unmoving. Bloodied faces, eyes wide in horror, stared unseeing from within crushed helmets. Armour, swords, spears and axes all covered in gore lay strewn amongst the dead. Horses lay with flies already swarming their corpses. Some still carried their mounts, soldiers half-crushed beneath them. Nothing moved except the torn pennants in a frail wind. The stench of death reeked everywhere.

  He tried to sit up but could not. He tried to raise a hand but found he couldn’t even move a finger. Panic spread through him. Was his body broken? Had he died? Great Goddess, what was happening to him?

  A raven cawed. He saw it circling above him. It cawed again and again then descended towards him, its black eyes gleaming. Marakon tried to move, afraid of the glare in its eyes, its sharp talons and flashing beak.

  I’m a Knight of the Raven. I should not be afraid of it!