The Betrayed Dragon (Cycle of Dragons Book 2), Dan Michaelson [best books to read all time .txt] 📗

didn’t figure out how to disconnect from what had happened, I wasn’t sure I could survive.

Get to the palace. Find the dragon. Free him.

Those thoughts stayed within me, a chant as I ran.

The walls of the palace loomed into view and I started to slow; they looked to be a seamless stone and vines crept along their surface, though it was not the walls nor the vines that drew my attention most of all. It was the energy that I could feel coming off of the palace—something in front of me. It was the power, but more than that, it was the fear of what I must do. I clutched the vases against me, holding on to them as carefully as I could, and regarded the wall. It was late, a growing darkness sweeping over the city making it so that I couldn’t see much other than the shadowed form of the wall’s outline. I didn’t know how I was going to get into the palace.

The faint sense of the dragon started to flicker. It was fading.

I had to get inside and figure out where the dragon was. Then I had to somehow link the dragon to the others to restore it. Finally, I would have to figure out what to do with these vases and what it meant that this power continued to flow out of the dragons and into the vase.

One thing at a time.

I circled around the wall and faced a pair of guards standing there. I didn’t have much in the way of options. They looked at me, watching me with darkened expressions that seemed even darker because of the night’s shadows. I tried to smile, but knew it did nothing to disarm them.

“I just need to get in and see . . .”

Whom?

I wasn’t entirely sure, and I didn’t know who might be able to help me when I did get inside. At this point, it was possible that I couldn’t truly trust anybody. The Sharath had no interest in working with me, given his affinity for the Djarn and my concern that the Djarn were involved. And Thomas wasn’t here—the only other person who had any interest in trying to help.

The king. That was whom I needed to go to. Would he even see me?

I had to try.

“I need to see the king,” I finished.

“The king isn’t accepting any visitors,” the nearest soldier said.

“I’m working with Thomas Elaron—”

That was a mistake. As soon as I said Thomas’s name, the soldiers started to tense and reached for their swords.

I reacted, drawing upon the power of the dragons, using what I could considering how weak and tired I felt, creating a band that swept out. I nearly dropped the vases as I attempted to loop around the two soldiers. I jerked on the band of power, and they went stumbling.

What was I doing?

I raced through the gate. I had to ignore their shouts—there was no point in acknowledging the cries—and now that I had committed to this plan of action, I had to go through with it. I had no idea if they would have other soldiers on the inside of the wall that could come after me, but I had to hurry.

I ran as quickly as I could, racing along the courtyard leading up to the main part of the palace. Once I reached it, I knew there would be dragon mages—powerful ones, given what I had seen of them before.

I focused on the energy of the dragon I detected. I couldn’t shake the feeling that it was the same dragon I had detected when I had been here before. At that time, I’d been convinced that it was tied to some power that the dragon mages were using.

I neared the entrance to the palace. There was a single dragon mage dressed all in black. I could feel the connection to the dragon, though strangely—and perhaps surprisingly—it was a different connection than what I had expected. This was a connection that felt more like the power coming out of the vase than the power somebody might call from one of the dragons in the dragon pens.

He frowned at me. Heat began to build from him as I approached. His gaze dropped to the vases, and I could swear there was a spark of recognition.

I reacted. I demanded the power of all of the dragons I had connected to and sent it at him in a burst of heat and flame. It struck him and he deflected some, but not all, of it, and was tossed off to the side where he slammed up against the wall.

I staggered forward. I was tired and didn’t know how much longer I could hold out. Just a little bit more. The king needed to know what was taking place. The king needed to know that the Djarn had somehow infiltrated his palace. The king needed to know . . .

I felt something coming behind me.

I hurried forward into the palace.

The light from dozens of lanterns illuminated its entrance, and I looked around, my gaze skimming past marble, sculptures, portraits, and all the other trappings of the kingdom’s wealth. I couldn’t keep my eye on them for too long, knowing that if I were to do so, I would ignore what I came here for.

Find the dragon. Rescue the dragon. Finish this, and then go to the king.

I could feel the pulling of the dragon. As before, it came from deep beneath the palace. Though I had been aware of it when I had come here before, I hadn’t known the source of it. Now that I stood here, feeling that energy rolling through me, I recognized it was below.

I had known before. I had even commented on it to Thomas.

I had to find a way down.

There would be a staircase.

I stopped in the middle of the hall, pressure starting to build against me, and I felt heat that suggested the coming dragon mage—or mages. There was something about the