Old Dark (The Last Dragon Lord Book 1) (13 page)

Lucan put his fingers in his mouth and whistled. “Penrose! Throw me a bolt cutter!”

Penrose reached into a toolbox on the seat of his bulldozer and tossed a bolt cutter. It narrowly missed Miri and landed in the dirt.

Lucan cut the rusty chains and they clanged to the ground. He pushed the doors, throwing all his weight into them, and they creaked open.
 

“Wow,” Miri said. “This is really happening.”

“We’re grave robbers now,” Celesse said with a smirk.
 

“You ladies aren’t used to breaking the law, are you? Stick around me and you’ll forget what it’s like to be an upstanding citizen.”

“Says the man who’s running for governor,” Celesse said.

Lucan laughed devilishly and slid a flashlight out of his pocket. He entered, and Miri and Celesse followed.
 

The inside of the mausoleum was stale and hot. Cobwebs lined the walls, and fat spiders crawled into the shadows as they passed. The walls were black and it was hard to see clearly, even with the flashlight.
 

Lucan intuited his way around. He shone the light down a long, dark hallway. Then he shone the light on the floor.

No spikes or holes that he could see.

He started forward, and Miri and Celesse followed, so close to him that he could feel their breath. Someone held onto his jacket coattail, but he couldn’t tell who.
 

Their steps echoed down the hallway.
 

The air changed, and he sensed an opening.
 

They came to some large stone steps, nearly twenty feet wide and five feet deep. Runes were engraved on them.
 

“You could break an ankle on these steps,” Celesse said as they climbed down.
 

“They’re dragon-sized,” Miri said.
 

They descended into a catacomb with a vaulted ceiling. The room stretched for a quarter of a mile, with another double door at the end.
 

Burlap sacks lay scattered around them.

“What’s with all the sacks?” Lucan asked.

Miri picked one up and ran her hand through it. She emptied it and turned it inside out. Her hand was rimmed with golden dust.
 

“These were full at some point. With gold.”

Lucan’s eyes widened. “Then why is it gone?”

Miri shook her head. “Someone’s been here.”

Lucan cursed. “You said this place was authentic!”

“It’s exactly as the history books described,” Miri said. “But it’s always possible it was robbed.”

“I don’t understand,” Celesse said. “If the Magic Eaters just broke the curse, how could someone have gotten in before?”

“The curse could have been broken before, and re-cast.”

“Great,” Lucan said.

“The actual tomb is ahead. The hallowed chamber fit for eternal rest,” Miri said.

Lucan ignored her and pushed forward. He wanted bodies. Bones. He didn’t care about money or history.
 

They reached the double door and he pushed it open. A golden glow washed over them.
 

The room was a rotunda made of gold; the walls and the floor glistened.
 

On the wall was a mural of five black dragons. Their wings were outstretched, their postures regal. Under them, their names shone in chiseled gold:

GREGARIUS

SMIRNATESSA

ALSATIUS I

SMIRNAGOND
 

ALSATIUS II

On the walls were large crypt slots, twenty feet long and wide. The names were also printed on the slots.

As they reached the center of the room, Lucan’s eyes widened.
 

In the middle of the stone floor were two skeletons. One had a bulky frame like a very large Keeper. Another was smaller, and it was wrapped around the first. Their skulls had an expression that looked to Lucan like screaming.
 

But Lucan only noticed the skulls for a moment. A pink flash made him jump back.

On the other side of the magical wall, a black, scaly mass lay curled in a ball.
 

“Is this—”Celesse asked.
 

Lucan dropped his flashlight. “Holy—”

Black scales like night.
 

Long, regal neck. Yellow claws. A presence that made him feel small.
 

Spine rising up and down. Great wind blowing through the chamber in measured rhythm. Eyelids closed, but fluttering.

It was Old Dark.
 

And he was alive.

XVIII

Miri felt small in the presence of Old Dark.
 

The dragon lay sleeping silently on the floor. If she hadn’t been paying attention, she would have taken him for dead.
 

Here was the subject of her life’s work, by a sheer miracle, still alive! She wondered if Heaven was smiling down upon her, if this was her chance—life’s apology for all the hardship she’d borne until now. She wanted to pray, but there would be enough time for that later.
 

She pulled out her phone and tried to take pictures, but Lucan grabbed her arm.
 

“Not yet,” he said. “We have to keep this secret.”

Miri walked to the edge of the magical wall. She stopped just short of it and could feel its warmth against her nose.
 

“It is written,” she started slowly, “that he was killed by Fenroot and left to die in the forests by the coast, and elven villagers pushed his body into the sea.”

Lucan and Celesse didn’t reply; they too were mesmerized by Dark.
 

“History forgot him, but not completely. How many more souls would have departed this planet had he lived? What untold horrors would he have committed? How might the entire course of history have changed if he had survived?” Miri turned to Lucan and smiled. “This is huge, Lucan. Really huge.”

Lucan dug his hands in his pockets and rocked on his heels. “What’s huge is the amount of shit I’m in.”

“What?” Miri asked. “I thought you wanted to find the tomb.”

“I wanted to find a body, but not a warm one.” He ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. “What am I going to do with an ex-dragon lord?”

Celesse frowned. “We’ll have to turn him in to the government.”

“To my uncle? Ha!” Lucan said. “Not a chance, babe.”

“This isn’t negotiable, Lucan.” Celesse wrapped his jacket around her tiny frame; she seemed to swim in it. Her eyes glowed in the pink light. “I can’t even think of what the fallout would be if you tried to keep this secret.”

“I thought the plan was to invoke the Magical Lands Act,” Miri said.
 

“The act protects research,” Lucan said, shaking his head. “But the moment a magical object is found, it becomes a joint investigation between the university and the government, with the governor able to review at any time. National security reasons. Even though I’m rich, I can’t interfere, Professor.”

Miri folded her arms. “I thought you were a lawbreaker.”

“Not when the risk is the penitentiary. I’m not that crazy.”

“So what do we do?” Miri asked. She pointed to Dark. “Mr. Grimoire, you have the most controversial figure in history at your mercy. No one has ever revered or reviled anyone since with the same intensity. Throw this chance away and you’re committing historical arson.”

Lucan raised his eyebrows mockingly. “Ooh, listen to you and your big words. Seriously, Miri, what the hell do you suggest I do? I’m trying to win an election, not start a museum.”

The three of them stood staring at Old Dark.
 

“I have no idea what to do,” Miri said finally.
 

“That makes three of us,” Lucan said.
 

A slurping sound took hold of the room as a group of Magic Eaters slithered in. They saw Dark and sucked their mouths loudly.
 

Miri pointed at the Magic Eaters and then at Dark. “Stop them!”

Soon there were more Magic Eaters.
 

“We should’ve shut the doors,” Celesse said.
 

“Should’ve, would’ve, could’ve,” Lucan said. He pulled out a grimoire, but the Magic Eaters passed him and raced for the magic wall surrounding Dark.
 

“They’re going to eat the wall!” Miri yelled.
 

“No no no no,” Lucan said.
 

The pink wheel hovered in front of him and he dialed through the runes. He hesitated, unsure what to cast.
 

Another swarm of Magic Eaters entered.
 

Miri grabbed Lucan’s wrist. “There are too many. You’ll kill yourself if you cast a spell on this many.”

Lucan let the wheel disappear and gave a sigh of defeat.
 

They retreated to the door and watched in horror as the Magic Eaters gathered at the magic wall and started slurping it.
 

BOOM!
One by one, they exploded, but it didn’t take long before the wall weakened.
 

“What’s going to happen when they break through?” Lucan asked.
 

Miri shook her head.
 

The Magic Eaters renewed their assault on the wall, exploding all over the golden room, coating it with dripping, gray slime. Before long, Miri could no longer make out the family mural.

CRASH!

“No,” she whispered, putting her hand over her mouth.
 

The wall shattered.
 

Pink liquid spilled across the floor. The Magic Eaters gathered around, drinking it furiously.
 

The magical barrier around Old Dark was gone.
 

“That didn’t take long,” Lucan said.
 

Miri shushed him.
 

They waited in silence as the slurping sound consumed the room.
 

Miri’s heart beat quickly.
 

The dragon stirred. First his tail swung from side to side.
 

His claws dug into the ground and then flexed. He stuck out each leg and stretched.
 

Then, the dragon lord opened his eyes.

Intermezzo

After the dragon lord’s fall, dragons around the world fought each other to seize power.
 

Like wild animals, they dueled amongst themselves, filling the skies with roaring and the rivers with blood.
 

But it didn’t take long for a new dragon lord to emerge: Fenroot, the silver dragon who had served as Old Dark’s commander. He won his way to the throne with a brutality that rivaled Old Dark’s.
 

They called him Fenroot the Brute.

Fenroot had the support of elven villages. They were tired of the Dark family’s strict control over the aquifer, and they helped him overthrow Old Dark in exchange for access to magic.
 

Those loyal to the Darks were killed or cowed into submission.

But Fenroot had problems to overcome: when the Darks’ palace was destroyed, most of the family’s gold and money were stolen. There was very little left, and Fenroot had to start his reign with limited funds.

But the new dragon lord cashed in on a new income stream: the aquifer.
 

Where Old Dark saw a threat to the aquifer, Fenroot saw an opportunity. He traded access to the aquifer for supreme power and riches.
 

Under Fenroot, elves could walk anywhere in the world without fear of harassment by dragons.
 

Humans could grow their crops uninhibited, as long as they kept to themselves.
 

The Dark family was excluded from oral histories. All mention of them was destroyed wherever possible. There were intense hunts for the family mausoleum, but no one could ever find it.
 

Historically, dragons had always had two roles—to protect the aquifer and to re-craft the land after the damage done by magic. But Fenroot’s quest for riches had unintended consequences.

Elves began using magic faster than the aquifer could replenish itself, and thus began a subtle imbalance that would resonate hundreds of years into the future.

Then, after a decade of prosperity, Fenroot renounced his throne and retreated into hiding, only seen once every few years. No one knew why, or those who did weren’t telling.

No dragon stepped up to succeed him, for they were too busy trying to repair the damage he had done.
 

He was the last dragon lord.
 

With no one to stop them, elves and humans began to gather in respective towns, then cities.
 

Then kingdoms.
 

And all the while, magic production continued, each new generation using more of it than the next.
 

Thus began the Dawn Age.
 

But there were still dragons who remembered the Darks...

ACT III

XIX

Dark opened his eyes. They were heavy with sleep, and he resisted the urge to close them and settle back down onto the floor.

Gold blinded him.
 

The walls. The floor. All around him, everything shone brightly.
 

He yawned and his jaw cracked, sending a wave of pain through his head.
 

He tasted iron in his mouth and spit out a glob of blood and broken teeth.
 

Why were his teeth broken? Why was there blood?

His head was aswim with fog and pain.
 

He dug his feet into the ground and they scraped against the stone floor. His claws were stiff, and he had to stretch them several times before the stiffness relaxed somewhat—but he still felt weak.
 

As he stood, a familiar image on the wall caught his eye. A painting of a black dragon with wings outstretched and glowing green eyes.

Him.
 

Or was it him?
 

The wall hovered in and out of focus, and his head throbbed. He tried to narrow his eyes to concentrate. But that made it worse.