Read Online Crown of Dragonfire by Daniel Arenson - Free Book Online
Authors: Daniel Arenson
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Plenty is real?" She glanced down at her cleavage. "Or do
you just believe this chest might be yours?"
"I don't know if the
chest is real," Vale said, ignoring the jab. "I don't know if the Keymaker is
real. I don't even know if our hope is real or just folly. But I know that
here, in Tofet, there is no hope. So I will seek it beyond the walls." He
turned toward Meliora. "We're joining you in your boat, Meliora. You'll smuggle
us out of the city. You will go seek the Keymaker, and you will fix the key.
Meanwhile Tash and I will find the Chest of Plenty to duplicate that key half a
million times." He clenched his fists. "Soon a nation of dragons will rise."
ELORY
For the first time since the
slaughter, the decimation that had left one in ten slaves dead, Elory dared to
feel hope, dared to let the veil of grief lift.
Meliora will fix the
key. Elory touched her collar, remembering the time she had begun to shift,
had seen the buds of lavender scales before the collar had slammed her back
into human form. Vale and Tash will multiply it, one for every dragon.
Requiem will fly again.
"So what are we waiting
for?" Tash was saying, leaping to her feet. "Let's go. Now! Before Ishtafel
burns down every hut to find us. Before the sun rises."
When Elory glanced over
at Tash, she felt her cheeks heat up. Memories of her brief time in the pit, of
Tash's lessons, filled her with a strange, intoxicating feeling much like the
spice's smoke. Here in the hut, Tash was all wildfire, but back in the pleasure
pit, she had been like honey, her kisses and caresses awakening deep senses in
Elory she could not forget. Elory had never loved another soul, not a romantic
sort of love, but she had heard tales of romance, and she wondered if those
feelings were akin to the ones Tash had instilled within her. Strangely, Elory
missed the pleasure pit, missed the comforting shadows, the incense, the gentle
touch of Tash's lips.
She shook her head
wildly. She had no room for such thoughts anymore. Those days were over, and a
new path lay before her, a path of war.
She rose to her feet
too, and she approached the others, one by one.
"Goodbye, Vale," she
whispered, hugging her brother, then turned toward Meliora. "Goodbye, sister. I
will pray for you. I—"
"You will go with them,"
Jaren said, also rising to his feet.
Elory turned toward her
father and gasped. "But . . . Father!"
Jaren's gaunt, bearded
face was grim. "If Meliora can smuggle two slaves out of the city, she can
smuggle a third. Tash and Vale have each other on their quest for the Chest of
Plenty. I will not have Meliora walk her path alone. Join her, Elory. Help her
find the Keymaker."
Elory's eyes dampened.
She stepped toward her father and embraced him, placing her cheek against his
thin chest. "Come with us, Father."
He shook his head and
kissed the top of her head. "I am a shepherd of Requiem. I cannot leave my
flock."
She looked up at him,
tears in her eyes. "And I can? How can I leave the others to suffer? How can I
leave you?"
He caressed her cheek. "Sweetest
daughter. You are like your mother, a being of pure light and kindness. And
here in Tofet, the masters will crush your light, grind away your kindness
until only bitterness remains. Ishtafel will seek you again, seek to drag you
into his palace, to take you away from me. If we must part, I would see you
travel a road of hope with Meliora, not enter a prison of gold with Ishtafel.
You are in danger here, Elory. We all are. Go with your sister. Bring back
hope."
She held her father
close. "I will return to you, Father. I promise. I love you. Always."
As he held her, Elory
thought of her mother. Not that last memory, that horrible memory of Mother
dying in Ishtafel's fire. She thought of the kindly mother she had known, the
mother who would hold her like this, sing to her old songs of Requiem. She would
not forget Mother either, not forget all those who had fallen, all those who
still lived, desperate for
you just believe this chest might be yours?"
"I don't know if the
chest is real," Vale said, ignoring the jab. "I don't know if the Keymaker is
real. I don't even know if our hope is real or just folly. But I know that
here, in Tofet, there is no hope. So I will seek it beyond the walls." He
turned toward Meliora. "We're joining you in your boat, Meliora. You'll smuggle
us out of the city. You will go seek the Keymaker, and you will fix the key.
Meanwhile Tash and I will find the Chest of Plenty to duplicate that key half a
million times." He clenched his fists. "Soon a nation of dragons will rise."
ELORY
For the first time since the
slaughter, the decimation that had left one in ten slaves dead, Elory dared to
feel hope, dared to let the veil of grief lift.
Meliora will fix the
key. Elory touched her collar, remembering the time she had begun to shift,
had seen the buds of lavender scales before the collar had slammed her back
into human form. Vale and Tash will multiply it, one for every dragon.
Requiem will fly again.
"So what are we waiting
for?" Tash was saying, leaping to her feet. "Let's go. Now! Before Ishtafel
burns down every hut to find us. Before the sun rises."
When Elory glanced over
at Tash, she felt her cheeks heat up. Memories of her brief time in the pit, of
Tash's lessons, filled her with a strange, intoxicating feeling much like the
spice's smoke. Here in the hut, Tash was all wildfire, but back in the pleasure
pit, she had been like honey, her kisses and caresses awakening deep senses in
Elory she could not forget. Elory had never loved another soul, not a romantic
sort of love, but she had heard tales of romance, and she wondered if those
feelings were akin to the ones Tash had instilled within her. Strangely, Elory
missed the pleasure pit, missed the comforting shadows, the incense, the gentle
touch of Tash's lips.
She shook her head
wildly. She had no room for such thoughts anymore. Those days were over, and a
new path lay before her, a path of war.
She rose to her feet
too, and she approached the others, one by one.
"Goodbye, Vale," she
whispered, hugging her brother, then turned toward Meliora. "Goodbye, sister. I
will pray for you. I—"
"You will go with them,"
Jaren said, also rising to his feet.
Elory turned toward her
father and gasped. "But . . . Father!"
Jaren's gaunt, bearded
face was grim. "If Meliora can smuggle two slaves out of the city, she can
smuggle a third. Tash and Vale have each other on their quest for the Chest of
Plenty. I will not have Meliora walk her path alone. Join her, Elory. Help her
find the Keymaker."
Elory's eyes dampened.
She stepped toward her father and embraced him, placing her cheek against his
thin chest. "Come with us, Father."
He shook his head and
kissed the top of her head. "I am a shepherd of Requiem. I cannot leave my
flock."
She looked up at him,
tears in her eyes. "And I can? How can I leave the others to suffer? How can I
leave you?"
He caressed her cheek. "Sweetest
daughter. You are like your mother, a being of pure light and kindness. And
here in Tofet, the masters will crush your light, grind away your kindness
until only bitterness remains. Ishtafel will seek you again, seek to drag you
into his palace, to take you away from me. If we must part, I would see you
travel a road of hope with Meliora, not enter a prison of gold with Ishtafel.
You are in danger here, Elory. We all are. Go with your sister. Bring back
hope."
She held her father
close. "I will return to you, Father. I promise. I love you. Always."
As he held her, Elory
thought of her mother. Not that last memory, that horrible memory of Mother
dying in Ishtafel's fire. She thought of the kindly mother she had known, the
mother who would hold her like this, sing to her old songs of Requiem. She would
not forget Mother either, not forget all those who had fallen, all those who
still lived, desperate for
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