Firestorm (The Sword of Light Trilogy Book 2)

FIRESTORM

Book II of

THE SWORD OF LIGHT

TRILOGY

Aaron Hodges

Written by Aaron Hodges

Edited by Tracey Govender

Proofread by Sara Pinnell

Cover Art by Medinda Burt

The Sword of Light Trilogy

Book 1:
Stormwielder

Book 2:
Firestorm

Book 3:
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Copyright © June 2016 Aaron Hodges.

First Edition

All rights reserved.

The National Library of New Zealand

ISBN-13: 978-0473356378

Aaron Hodges was born in 1989 in the small town of Whakatane, New Zealand. He studied for five years at the University of Auckland, completing a Bachelor’s of Science in Biology and Geography, and a Masters of Environmental Engineering. After working as an environmental consultant for two years, he grew tired of office work and decided to quit his job and see the world. Two years later, his travels have taken him through South East Asia, Canada, the USA, Mexico, Central America, and South America.

Today, his adventures continue…

Thank you to everyone I met on the road who encouraged me to continue my writing journey (as well as my actual adventure through Central and South America). I know would never have completed Firestorm in time without the support of some wonderful people along the way.

I hope you enjoy the finished product!

Home is where your heart is.

And there's no place like home.

The Three Nations

They appeared as the first glow of the morning sun touched the horizon. Great wings thumped the cool air, golden scales glittering in the dawns light; one, two, six, a dozen. Bursts of flame licked the treetops as the beasts circled, great eyes staring down at them. Wind whipped about the cove, catching in their golden wings.

Below, the surf roared and waves rushed up onto the black sands. The tang of salt stung the air as a fine mist of sea spray settled on their clothes. A breath of wind whistled through the trees behind them, carrying with it the bite of winter. Beyond the breakers the sea raged on hidden reefs. Dark cliffs stared down at them, casting the cove in shadow.

Eric sat on the cool sand watching the dragons, his chest tight with dread. He knew what they were here for, what they wanted. The body of Nerissa lay nearby; her golden scales dull with death. The dragon’s bravery had saved them all, her crimson flames driving off the demon. But Nerissa’s defiance had come at a price. Now her kin had come to claim their own.

He just prayed that was all they sought.

His companions sat around him, watching the display in grim silence. Inken sat beside him, her arm resting gently against his back. Reaching down he squeezed her hand, drawing strength from her presence. She glanced at him with her hazel eyes, scarlet hair shining even in the shade. Tears and burns marked her clothing, but beneath her skin was whole; healed by the Goddess Antonia.

On either side of them rested Michael and Caelin, the doctor and the soldier. Caelin sat with his legs folded, muscles rippling as he tensed, ready to spring. A short sword lay across his lap, his fingers lingering on the blade. The sword did not belong to him, but to Eric’s teacher, Alastair. Eric’s eyes slid out over the water, memories of the night before returning. His chest clenched tight, but he kept the tears from his eyes. Alastair was at peace now; the same could not be said for them.

Michael also sat with his legs crossed, but he held only a small pack stuffed with what remained of his medical supplies. Little good they had done Alastair. But they had at least kept Eric alive long enough to be healed by Antonia’s magic. Eric would never forget how the doctor’s strength and skill had helped bring him through the darkness. Michael stared up at the circling dragons, his short-cropped hair and beard betraying nothing of the ordeals of the last two days.

A roar came from overhead, returning Eric’s attention to the sky. A dragon dropped from formation and descended towards them. Swallowing his fears, Eric pulled himself to his feet. His companions followed suit, fingers hovering close to weapons. His hand lingered in Inken’s. She gave it a squeeze and flashed him a smile.

The ground shook as the beast thumped onto the beach. The wings beat a final time, sending a cloud of sand billowing out around it. Eric raised a hand against the onslaught and struggled to keep the dragon in sight. Air hissed as its mouth opened to reveal rows of glittering teeth. The stench of rotten fish billowed across the beach, followed by a wave of heat.

Who are you who trespasses here?
The voice reverberated through Eric’s mind. The dragon towered over them, its bulk covering the black-sanded beach.

Eric’s knees trembled, but through his fear he remembered Caelin’s actions from the day before. Forcing his limbs to obey, Eric bowed to the dragon. There could be no mistakes here; one swipe of those giant claws could slice him in two.

Straightening, he looked the dragon in the eye. “Greetings, dragon. This is Inken, a bounty hunter from Chole. These are Caelin, sergeant of the Plorsean army, and the doctor Michael. My name is Eric. I am apprentice to the Magicker, Alastair,” he paused. “Or I was, until he was killed last night by a traitor. May I ask, what is your name, dragon?”

He did not mention the fifth member of their party – Enala, the girl they had come all this way to find. She still sat catatonic amongst the trees behind them, unresponsive to the world around her.

My name is Enduran, and you are not welcome here
, the dragon’s nostrils widened as it sniffed the air. Its eyes scanned the beach until they settled on the body of Balistor, still lying where he had fallen.
The blood of our sister is on your hands.

Caelin stepped forward. “No, Enduran. It is on the hands of that traitor. He was an agent of Archon – he tried to kill us all. I stopped him, though he had been my companion for many weeks. We are not your enemy.”

It was you who brought him here, brought him into our midst. His actions fall on your shoulders
, a growl rumbled up from deep in Enduran’s chest. Eric braced himself, expecting flames to follow.
But you speak the truth – it was your blade that slew him.

The dragon shifted on the beach, its claws digging great grooves into the sand. Its tail flicked out, shattering a spire of rock that stood amidst the dunes. It growled again.
Enough blood has been spilt on our land. We will not be responsible for any more. We will give you the day to leave our lands. Come nightfall, we will put our sister to rest. Her body, and all who remain on this beach, will be cleansed by dragon fire.

Eric swallowed. “But we will not survive Dragon Country alone. We have no horses, no supplies. We are trapped on this beach.”

Flames licked from between the dragon’s lips. Eric shrank backwards, holding his breath.

There is a Lonian fishing vessel nearby. I shall tell the sailors of your presence. It is up to them whether they wish to rescue you. Either way, we will not wait
, the wings began to beat again, sending sand flying across the beach.

Eric raised his arm again and squinted through the sandstorm, watching Enduran rise into the sky. As he drew above the height of the cliffs the other dragons joined him, their wings carrying them out across the ocean.

Eric watch them go and then turned to his companions. “What now?”

Caelin smiled. “We wait. And pray the dragons don’t send the Lonian’s fleeing halfway across the ocean.”

“They’re not exactly known as a timid bunch,” Inken countered. “I’d say our chances are good,” she moved up the beach to where their scant possessions lay scattered.

Eric followed her, his boots sinking into the coarse sand. “Fishermen, or Lonian’s?” he asked.

“Both,” Inken laughed. “Although I was referring to the Lonian’s. Gods’ know, they held the Trolan’s to a standstill during the Great Wars.”

“Although unlike the Trolan’s, they’ve settled down a little since those days,” Caelin replied as they sat in a circle.

Eric spared a look at the bundle of rags lying nearby, where Enala still lay inert. She had not moved or said a word since the night before, when Balistor had killed the dragon she rode. Whatever bond had been shared by the dragon and the girl, its loss had tipped Enala over the edge.

A muffled sob came from the pile of cloth. Michael moved across and sat beside her. He began to speak to her, but Eric could not make out the words.

He shook his head. Enala was a problem for another day, when they had escaped this deadly land. He glanced out at the ocean, straining to make out the tell-tale sails of a ship, but the horizon remained empty.

“They’re likely to be some distance away,” Inken noticed the direction of his gaze. “The Lonian’s fish right down the east coast, but they stay well clear of these waters. The reefs are treacherous for the deeper hulls of their fishing vessels.”

Eric nodded, but a rumble from his stomach gave away his impatience.

Caelin laughed. “I know, we’re all hungry. But there’s not much we can do about that for now,” he eyed Inken. “Unless a certain bounty hunter thinks there could be game nearby?”

Inken gave a short smile. “Believe me, if there was, I wouldn’t be lazing around here,” she glanced at Eric, “even if I’m hesitant to leave. No, I haven’t seen a single bird or rabbit in the trees since we arrived. For whatever reason, dragons or demon or curse, the forest around this cove is empty.”

Caelin sighed. “That is a shame,” then he smiled. “Still, I’m sure we can survive a few more hours. A fishing ship is bound to have plenty of food on board.”

“If they come,” Eric interjected, doubt still plaguing him.

“They’ll come,” Caelin grinned. “I have every faith in our Lonian neighbours.”