“They already know about me,” Ström says, his look dire. “I put you at risk, my Jarl, and our entire family, staying here right now.”
“Nonsense. We can and will protect you, against anything the false Knights throw at us.” Jarl Jorg scoffs as his green eyes glitter. Reaching out, he claps Ström on the shoulder, shaking him. “You three will remain here and investigate the treasures you have found. We all need to know about the original Black Dragon Five now, and how they worked the magic that created the creature. Perhaps there will be something in thosehistories than can help us. Even though the magic in their items is long dead.”
“We’ll do our best,” Bjorn says firmly, as he nods. “We’ll get started tonight, to figure out what those scrolls and arcane writings mean.”
“Rest! Live a little.” Jarl Jorg laughs now as he finally rises. “You three have been through a lifetime’s worth of insanity these past few weeks. Enjoy peace when you can find it; remain here at the palace, protected, and recover. I will check in with you in a week to find out if you have discovered anything in the altar’s annals that might help us. In the meantime, the True Knights shall monitor for any appearance of the Black Dragon, though it seems to have vanished after decimating Jurggadden. Clearly, whomever is wielding it to their agenda does not have a second target yet, else they would have already attacked it.”
“Or the Black Dragon has already regained its own will and mind,” I say, as an ominous sensation fills me. “And is only waiting for the right time to strike.”
A pause engulfs us now, before Grandma Annika speaks.
“Though the souls that once powered the Black Dragon have been released from their tomb, I do not think they have found their way home to the creature quite yet.” A deep knowing fills her green gaze. “From the legends, we know the Black Dragon became a being of unimaginable destruction once it finally struck down the last member of the Five who had created it, and devoured their souls entire. It was controlled by no one then, and rampaged without pause across Blood Dragondom, ruining everything in its path. It had no agenda, only destruction…”
“So the souls of the Five may not have returned to it yet, because we’re not seeing it rampage like that?” I blink, hoping with everything inside me that Annika is right. She nods, and I inhale, feeling Aesa’s stone hum. I look at Bjorn and Ström. “So we may have some time, then. Something must be holding those souls back from returning to the creature yet, but we need to hit the books and find out what.”
“Time to head back up to my rooms and work.” Ström givesa sad chuckle as he rises. We all do, and Ström embraces his great-grandfather. “Thanks for not killing me… and for giving me and my mates the benefit of the doubt.”
“You know I always will,” Jarl Jorg says with affection now as he sets his forehead to Ström’s, shaking his shoulders. “You have a good heart, youngling, though I know you hide secrets deep inside. Hopefully, your new mates will help you with those, and absolve the self-wrath I feel churning in you. Until then, love them, and know that I approve of this new mateship for you. Even though it is with a Bloodwalker… which may expose you and many in our family line as Bone Mages. Something we have long avoided, but which I suppose is inevitable now.”
“We’ll bring the Black Dragon down.” I face Ström’s great-grandfather. “We will protect the Bone Mages who need protecting, bringing the renegade ones to justice. And correct the wrongs of the false Black Dragon Knights in the process.”
“Strong words.” The Jarl nods as his ancient gaze peruses me. “I hope for all our sakes that you can do what you say you can, and more. We’re going to need that in the coming days and weeks. Else, I fear we all may perish, and the entirety of Blood Dragondom along with us.”
With those dire words, the Eriksson Jarl opens the drawing room doors. He ushers us out, not into the family dining hall, but into a side hall where we can retreat up to Ström’s rooms without being accosted by the rest of his family.
“Go. Rest. When you’re ready, investigate what you have found. I shall be waiting.” Jarl Jorg gives a hard smile now, though it is also kind. As Ström embraces his little sister Mathilde, whose eyes have gone wider and wider at our conversation, then his grandmother Annika, we depart. A heavy weight settles in me as we walk back through the halls and up the long, corkscrewing staircase back to Ström’s tower apartment.
Though something else inside me finally feels light.
I can’t explain it, but it feels good to have the whole story of the Black Dragon Knights and why they were created, not to mention what wentdown during the creature’s ancient rampage. At last, we have the full story of what happened back then, not just a part of it.
That thought bolsters me now as we return to Ström’s vast apartments with all their shelves of glass and chrome shining around the vaulted white stone andsilberskraewalls.
The altar’s contents are stashed straight ahead, under one of Ström’s strongest warded vaults. We make our way to it now, lit tastefully beneath chrome spotlights in the midnight hour.
The early night has gone as we talked with the Eriksson clan and their Jarl. Now, a deep midnight breathes all around us, as we stare at the hodgepodge of items we rescued from that altar.
They sit before us, just as mysterious now as they were then. Though all are magically dead, it doesn’t mean something of vast importance doesn’t lie within the stories they could tell us.
Tales we must discover now, if we’re to beat the Black Dragon.
And put it down, at last.
13
TIRADE
As we stare at the heavily warded items in their glass box up in Ström’s tower apartment, he heaves a sigh. I glance over and he takes my hand, threading his fingers through mine as he lifts my hand to kiss it. The oddest smile is on his face; through our bond, I feel a bemused confusion from him. Bjorn feels it, as well. He glances over, penetrating the third of our trio with an intense look until Ström finally looks at him.
“What?” Ström lifts an eyebrow at Bjorn.
“You tell us. You’re the one who’s stewing.” Bjorn keeps Ström locked in his gaze.
“That went both better and worse than I hoped,” Ström says as he glances at us. Still wearing his bemused smile, he kisses my hand again, then shakes his head. “It’s not the first time my great-grandfather has considered killing me because of something rash I’ve done. To hear so many revelations about him and my family in a single night, though… to call itoverwhelmingis an understatement.”
“All of us are learning far more about our families than we ever wanted to know.” Bjorn scowls now, as I feel him think about his father and how he killed Bjorn’s beloved little sister, Astrid. Probably because he wasafraid she would become too powerful and supplant him, thanks to being a Bloodwalker.
Everything Jarl Jorg and Ström’s Grandma Annika said tonight was just as overwhelming for Bjorn and me as it was for Ström. We stare at the artifacts in their box again.
