Read Online The Confliction (Book Three of the Dragoneers Saga) (Dragoneer Saga) by M. R. Mathias - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: M. R. Mathias
Ads: Link
breached along the orchard rows. The old ranger was full of splintered shards, lying amid a litter of bodies in the middle of a great red-black stain in the snow.
Tears were streaming from Rikky’s eyes so hard he couldn’t see. He was suddenly on the ground, though. When he cleared his vision enough to make out what was happening, he was shocked. He saw that it was Prince Richard and the Nightshade that had just set him down.
Without another thought, Rikky spotted his dragon in the sky. She was bleeding badly in several different places, but she was out of the Sarax swarm. Blaze wasn’t so lucky. The fire wyrm was still entangled with a score of them. March wasn’t seated, and Rikky couldn’t see him, but what he saw was as unbelievable as it was amazing.
Prince Richard, no King Richard, Rikky corrected his thought, was slinging from a pony-keg what appeared to be water over the cloud of Sarax attacking Blaze. Where the liquid touched the monsters, bright blue and yellow sparks traced like veins over their skin. The one of them that was splashed the most was suddenly consumed in flickering tendrils of yellow flame before combusting in midflight.
After seeing the Sarax explode, Rikky hop-stepped on his peg-leg through the soft, gore-strewn terrain until he found Herald’s body. Another of the things exploded overhead, and the terrible droning buzz shifted to a desperate howling pitch. He was almost overcome with anguish, but then Herald’s body sighed and twitched. With his dragon tear clenched tightly in his hand, Rikky made to use all the healing knowledge he possessed. He forgot about the world around him and started into his old friend’s body with his mind’s eye.
He would save Herald this day, or exhaust his teardrop’s power trying.
Chapter 12
Deep in the temple, Zahrellion was as angry as she had ever been. Lemmy had just appeared and was explaining what was going on outside when Lanxe and a pair of red-robed druids appeared at her cell door. If the foolish rangers and witches had waited just one more day, Zah could have found out what they were feeding the Sarax. Her sweet voice went far toward tempting the dense night cell guard, but all of that was wasted effort now. One of the druids held her still with a spell while the other one made to put a damping hood over her head. Zahrellion’s ancestor, Grock Visium, had designed the hood to still captured Outland pirate-ship magi. It galled her to be going under it yet again. Before it was done, she saw that they’d put King Blanchard in a hood, too, then all she saw was darkness.
Zah was urged, not so gently, down a corridor that led to the roofless interior worship area of the inner sanctum. She knew that was where they were going because she could feel the bitter air blowing through the open doors. She’d been there before when she’d ascended to the White Robe. This time, her arms were bare, as were her legs from the knees down. The wind inside the pentagonal garden was swirling hard. The rest of her was covered in a burlap smock that did little to cut the frigid air. Soon she was stepping through shin-high snow so cold that it numbed her soles before they had a chance to hurt. It wasn’t as bad for her as it might have been for someone else. Zahrellion’s bond-mate was a frost dragon, and she was used to sitting on icy cold scales with wild wind whipping. It wasn’t pleasant, though. Her toes were surely getting the bite, even now.
King Blanchard was livid. Already his angry tongue had earned him an unmistakable wallop on the head with a staff.
“What of the king?” one of the druids asked.
“Blank his mind,” Lanxe said. “Linux’s body may come in useful someday. Throw Zahrahnah’s daughter on the block and extract her manna. Let’s get this over with.”
“Blank my mind? Why you fargin’ dung lovin’ son of a--” King Blanchard started.
“Crack!” a staff sounded as it impacted the hooded head of Linux’s body
Tears were streaming from Rikky’s eyes so hard he couldn’t see. He was suddenly on the ground, though. When he cleared his vision enough to make out what was happening, he was shocked. He saw that it was Prince Richard and the Nightshade that had just set him down.
Without another thought, Rikky spotted his dragon in the sky. She was bleeding badly in several different places, but she was out of the Sarax swarm. Blaze wasn’t so lucky. The fire wyrm was still entangled with a score of them. March wasn’t seated, and Rikky couldn’t see him, but what he saw was as unbelievable as it was amazing.
Prince Richard, no King Richard, Rikky corrected his thought, was slinging from a pony-keg what appeared to be water over the cloud of Sarax attacking Blaze. Where the liquid touched the monsters, bright blue and yellow sparks traced like veins over their skin. The one of them that was splashed the most was suddenly consumed in flickering tendrils of yellow flame before combusting in midflight.
After seeing the Sarax explode, Rikky hop-stepped on his peg-leg through the soft, gore-strewn terrain until he found Herald’s body. Another of the things exploded overhead, and the terrible droning buzz shifted to a desperate howling pitch. He was almost overcome with anguish, but then Herald’s body sighed and twitched. With his dragon tear clenched tightly in his hand, Rikky made to use all the healing knowledge he possessed. He forgot about the world around him and started into his old friend’s body with his mind’s eye.
He would save Herald this day, or exhaust his teardrop’s power trying.
Chapter 12
Deep in the temple, Zahrellion was as angry as she had ever been. Lemmy had just appeared and was explaining what was going on outside when Lanxe and a pair of red-robed druids appeared at her cell door. If the foolish rangers and witches had waited just one more day, Zah could have found out what they were feeding the Sarax. Her sweet voice went far toward tempting the dense night cell guard, but all of that was wasted effort now. One of the druids held her still with a spell while the other one made to put a damping hood over her head. Zahrellion’s ancestor, Grock Visium, had designed the hood to still captured Outland pirate-ship magi. It galled her to be going under it yet again. Before it was done, she saw that they’d put King Blanchard in a hood, too, then all she saw was darkness.
Zah was urged, not so gently, down a corridor that led to the roofless interior worship area of the inner sanctum. She knew that was where they were going because she could feel the bitter air blowing through the open doors. She’d been there before when she’d ascended to the White Robe. This time, her arms were bare, as were her legs from the knees down. The wind inside the pentagonal garden was swirling hard. The rest of her was covered in a burlap smock that did little to cut the frigid air. Soon she was stepping through shin-high snow so cold that it numbed her soles before they had a chance to hurt. It wasn’t as bad for her as it might have been for someone else. Zahrellion’s bond-mate was a frost dragon, and she was used to sitting on icy cold scales with wild wind whipping. It wasn’t pleasant, though. Her toes were surely getting the bite, even now.
King Blanchard was livid. Already his angry tongue had earned him an unmistakable wallop on the head with a staff.
“What of the king?” one of the druids asked.
“Blank his mind,” Lanxe said. “Linux’s body may come in useful someday. Throw Zahrahnah’s daughter on the block and extract her manna. Let’s get this over with.”
“Blank my mind? Why you fargin’ dung lovin’ son of a--” King Blanchard started.
“Crack!” a staff sounded as it impacted the hooded head of Linux’s body
Similar Books
