The Rise of Ancient Fury Read online

  “Or maybe not.”

  “What?” Calum asked.

  Riley grinned. “Maybe you don’t have a lot on your mind. Just one specific thing.”

  Calum’s mouth hung open for a moment.

  “It’s alright. I won’t tell her. But you should.”

  Calum’s breath caught in his throat. He stammered, “I—I don’t know what you’re—”

  “Sure you do. It’s been several months since you met her. Now that Falcroné’s out of the way…” Riley didn’t finish his thought.

  He didn’t have to. Calum’s heart beat faster. “Look, I—”

  “I’m not here to judge. I don’t think anyone wanted him to die, and certainly no one wanted him to go out the way he did, but the end result still benefits you.”

  Were they really having this macabre conversation? “Riley, I didn’t—”

  Riley held up his paw. “Like I said, I’m not here to judge. I’m just—”

  “Riley.” Calum eyed him, and Riley finally stopped talking. “I understand what you’re saying, but her parents just died, and a Dragon and a bunch of Saurians obliterated her home and wiped out a huge chunk of her people. I don’t think now’s really the right time.”

  Rather than replying, Riley simply stared up at the night sky, as if lost in thought. Given the nature of their conversation, Calum couldn’t help but wonder if Riley had gone through something similar to what he was now experiencing with Lilly.

  He started to ask Riley about it, but the Werewolf spoke first.

  “You’ll say ‘it’s not the right time’ forever if you let yourself.” Riley put his hand on Calum’s shoulder and then stood to his full height.

  “Where are you going?”

  “To get some rest. We’ve got another long day tomorrow—assuming we don’t all get killed first.”

  Calum stood up and grabbed Riley’s wrist. “Wait. What did you mean about letting myself say that forever?”

  Riley squared his body with Calum’s and looked down at him with a hint of sadness in his blue eyes. “I mean that there will always be a reason not to do something like this. There will never be a perfect time, Calum. There also may never be a better time. Just…” He sighed. “…don’t wait so long that it ends up being too late.”

  Calum noted the dismay and the sense of loss in Riley’s voice. Maybe he had a point.

  “See that charcoal-coated brigand laying next to her?” Riley nodded toward Condor.

  Calum glanced at him, nervous. “Yeah?”

  “I hate to say it, but he’s Lilly’s future if you don’t do something first.”

  “You really think so?” Calum’s heart unhinged.

  Riley nodded again. “Yeah, I do. He’s got everything a girl would want: looks, speed, prowess, cunning, a bad-boy streak. He’s the slightly nefarious version of Falcroné, and if Lilly was prepared to marry her own cousin without really loving him, Condor is a big upgrade. And if you let her make that choice—”

  “I can’t hope to compete with Condor on any level,” Calum finished Riley’s thought.

  Riley sighed again. “But what do I know? I’m just a Wolf.”

  Calum smiled in spite of his dismay. “A Werewolf, now.”

  Riley huffed. “Yeah. I keep forgetting that.”

  As Riley turned to walk away, Calum said, “Hey, can I ask you one other question?”

  “Sure.” Riley turned back.

  “If it came down to Axel and me—”

  “Oh, I’d save you, for sure,” Riley answered quickly. “Axel wanted to leave me for dead. You’ve been nothing but a true friend and supportive and—”

  “No, no.” Calum chuckled. “That’s nice to know, but I meant Lilly. Do you think Axel has any chance of—”

  “None.” Riley’s voice flattened. “Zero.”

  Calum smiled, and he nodded. “Alright. Thanks, Riley.”

  “Get some sleep, Calum.”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  “Try counting sheep.”

  Calum stared at him as headed into the shadows again. “You do realize you’re a Wolf, right? A Wolf just told me to count sheep.”

  Riley shrugged, then he melted into the darkness. “Where do you think the saying came from? Sheep are tasty. It’s why we count them.”

  Calum rolled his eyes and lay back down. This time, instead of seeing Lumen’s blinding light when he closed his eyes, he saw fluffy white sheep floating across his mind’s eye.

  One… two… three…

  The next morning when Calum awoke, he realized he’d slept for the rest of the night. Apparently he needed to count sheep more often. He sat up, stretched, and headed straight over to where Lilly stood with Condor and General Tolomus.

  Riley had been right. There was no time like the present to talk to Lilly, so that’s what Calum had determined to do.

  As he approached, six sets of dark-purple armor dropped from the sky and formed a barrier between him and the others. He recoiled a step and eyed them. “Good morning to you, too.”

  “It’s alright, guys,” Lilly called. “Let him pass.”

  The Royal Guard parted, and Calum resumed his path toward Lilly. She smiled at him, and it sent his stomach into a flurry of excitement.

  “That’s new,” he said.

  “The guards? They’re being overprotective, I know.” Lilly looked him up and down. “You look well-rested.”

  “Yeah. I do.” Calum blinked, and the words that came out of his mouth seemed to make less and less sense the more he spoke. “I mean—you do. You do, too. What I’m trying to say is—”

  Condor and General Tolomus stared at him, their faces expressionless except for their scrunched eyebrows. Lilly kept smiling at him.

  Calum bit his tongue, took a breath, and started again. “Did you sleep well?”

  “Premieress, I’m going to prepare my soldiers for departure. Please ask your flightless friends to be ready to descend from this mesa within five minutes.” General Tolomus shot Calum a scowl and hopped into the air.

  Calum glared back, but only briefly. “So…”

  Lilly grinned. “So…?”

  Condor cleared his throat. “I hate to break up this highly intellectual conversation while it’s still in its infancy, but we should also prepare to leave, Premieress.”

  Lilly nodded and looked at him. “You’re right. We should probably—”

  “Lilly?” Calum refused to miss his chance. “Do you mind if we—if I talk to you alone for a minute?”

  Condor folded his arms and squinted at Calum, then he turned to Lilly.

  She gave him a subtle nod. “I’ll be ready in time.”

  “Alright.” Condor clicked his tongue and floated away from them.

  “What can I do for you, Calum?”

  Finally. He had her all to himself.

  He glanced around just to make sure this wasn’t an illusion or that the others hadn’t formed a line behind him. He caught Riley’s eyes, and Riley winked at him.

  Then he found Axel’s eyes, and he got a glare. But it didn’t matter. This was his moment, and he wasn’t about to allow Axel to—

  “Calum?”

  His head snapped back to Lilly. “Huh?”

  She chuckled. It sounded wonderful. “You said you wanted to talk to me.”

  “I do.” Realization hit Calum like a fist full of joy to his forehead. “I do! Yes. How are you?”

  Lilly smiled. “I’m fine. How are you?”

  “I’m good.” Calum hesitated. “I’m really good, thanks.”

  “That’s good.”

  Silence hovered between them.

  Calum opened his mouth, but Condor’s words sounded.

  “Premieress? Are you ready?”

  She looked at Calum and raised her eyebrows.

  He sighed, and his fingers quivered at his sides. “Just one more minute?”

  “Almost, Condor,” Lilly called. She refocused on Calum. “Whatever it is, you’d better say it. We’re
leaving any minute now.”

  Calum silently cursed his nerves. This was it. He leaned forward and whispered, “Lilly, I think I—”

  “Stop,” she said, her eyes widening with realization.

  He did. His spine straightened, and he stared at her. “What?”

  Her smile had faded to an expression halfway between a frown and a scowl. “I’m sorry, Calum. I can’t.”

  Calum gulped down the lump in his throat, and it settled like a rock in his gut. He knew what she meant, but he didn’t want to believe they were talking about the same thing. His voice shook as he whispered, “Why not?”

  She shook her head, and tears formed in the corners of her eyes. Her voice broke. “I can’t lose you too.”

  Calum’s mouth hung open again. “Lilly, you’re not going to—”

  “Excuse me.” She pushed past him and took to the sky, then she promptly landed next to Condor.

  Calum stood there as her Royal Guard also surrounded her. He exhaled a long breath, wishing he could exhale the sense of emptiness in his gut as well. He’d tried. He’d actually succeeded, at least on some level. He’d managed to get his message across, but unlike what Riley had suggested, he’d failed to win her over.

  “Alright. Everyone who’s flightless, move to the edge of the mesa,” General Tolomus said.

  Calum complied, but he noted the scorn in General Tolomus’s voice whenever he said “flightless.” Two sets of Windgale arms hooked under his and descended with him to the base of the mesa.

  At least by now he was used to Windgales letting him down.

  After two scorpion-free, Warg-free, and Wolf-free days and nights, Magnus and Riley led the group to the place Magnus had seen in his vision from Lumen.

  Now, after weeks of travel and years of biding his time, waiting for a means to avenge his father’s murder, Magnus would soon hold that means in his hands.

  “This is it?” Axel asked, his voice as flat as the desert ground where they stood. “There’s nothing here.”

  “Remember how unimpressed you were when we reached the Arcanum?” Magnus countered.

  “Yeah. What’s your point?”

  “Remember how wrong you were?”

  Axel’s jaw hardened. “Again, what’s your point?”

  “You are about to be wrong again.”

  Magnus took three steps forward and bent down next to a dark-brown rock that stuck out from the sand by a few inches. He touched its smooth surface and grinned.

  In his vision from Lumen, he’d seen exactly what he needed to do. He gripped the sides of the rock and twisted it counter-clockwise.

  Something clicked, and the rock began to ascend from the sand. It stopped once it reached a height of about four feet tall. Though heavily worn, the pillar still vaguely resembled its original form: a Dragon with its wings now missing and a small emerald embedded in its chest.

  Magnus turned and raised narrowed his eyes at Axel, who folded his arms and glared back at him.

  “Now what?” Calum asked.

  Magnus looked around the statue for an opening on the ground, something that would lead him down into the chambers buried beneath the ground, but he found none. Lumen’s vision had stopped short of providing him with the answer to this part of the riddle.

  “Magnus?”

  He glanced at Calum. “I am not sure what must happen next.”

  Axel scoffed, and Magnus glared at him.

  “Maybe it has something to do with that statue?” Lilly landed next to it.

  “Like what?” Axel kept his arms folded.

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. Push on it.”

  Magnus leaned against it at first, but despite his considerable strength, it didn’t budge. He pushed harder, but still nothing happened. He shifted his position and pushed at it from another angle, then another, then another, but all to no avail.

  Nothing. He pushed down on it next. Still nothing. He pressed his finger against the emerald, but it didn’t move either.

  Frustrated, he growled at the pillar and stepped back. He smacked it with the palm of his hand, then reared back and punched the Dragon’s head. Fleeting pain rapped his knuckles, and a fissure split near the Dragon’s neck, but nothing else happened.

  “So…” Calum began. “What do we do now?”

  Magnus growled again. “We wait. We cannot leave without that sword.”

  “For how long?” Lilly asked. “I can already tell you what General Tolomus is going to say.”

  In unison, Calum, Axel, and Magnus said, “We are too exposed.”

  Lilly nodded. “Yeah. Exactly.”

  Axel rolled his eyes. “This is a desert. We’re always exposed.”

  “I do not think we have a choice either way,” Magnus said. “If necessary, the group can go on ahead, and I will stay here and try to solve this conundrum.”

  Calum shook his head. “No. I’m staying with you. If something should happen and you need help, I want to be here for you. I’m sure Riley, his Wolves, and Kanton would do the same.”

  “Count me in as well,” Lilly said. “And with me, you get an extra twenty-two companions, because General Tolomus and Condor won’t leave my side.”

  Magnus nodded to them both. “I appreciate your support. Thank you.”

  Axel kicked a stone and it tumbled toward the pillar. “Guess I’ll just go camp somewhere by myself.”

  Now Magnus rolled his eyes.

  After hours of everyone trying and failing to usher in some significant change to the statue or its surroundings, night fell on the desert. Amid the chilly night air, Calum helped set up their camp, grateful that the Wisps could fly off to collect firewood and other burnables.

  Eventually Magnus gave up and lay on the ground, huffing and snorting until he finally fell asleep. Calum didn’t envy him; he’d been just as flummoxed by some of Lumen’s dreams and vague instructions over the last year.

  With no elevation to protect them, General Tolomus ordered two-hour shifts of watches for the Wisps in both his troop and the Royal Guard. Five soldiers stood watch to start, followed by the other five soldiers, and then two sets of five Royal Guards after that.

  Calum stayed up with the third watch for good measure. He’d managed to sleep—thanks to Riley’s numbered sheep—for a few hours, but once he woke up that night, he couldn’t fall back asleep no matter how many sheep he counted. Better to be an extra lookout than waste his focus on wooly figments of his imagination.

  His talk with Lilly the other day still gnawed at him from the inside, mostly because she’d confirmed her feelings for him. At least it seemed like she had, and she didn’t want to commit to anything and then lose him.

  That’s what she’d said—or so he thought. He wasn’t sure. Maybe she was speaking in girl-code or something.

  Whatever the case, it gave him all the more reason to focus on the task at hand. If he didn’t end up dead by the end of this whole ordeal, then maybe—just maybe—they could have some semblance of a future together.

  He held out his left hand and opened his fist. He concentrated, and Lumen’s white light began to emanate from under his skin, accompanied by the familiar burn.

  The light flared a bit too brightly, and one of the Wisps keeping watch gave him a glare. Calum quickly closed his fist. Some of the light glinted off the emerald mounted to the statue before the light faded entirely.

  Then a new light shined—a revelation, this one in Calum’s mind. He stood up and started toward the statue. He looked down at his left hand, then he looked at the emerald.

  I wonder if…

  He held his hand out with his palm facing the emerald and concentrated again. The light shone faintly at first, but when nothing happened with the statue, Calum intensified the burn.

  Still nothing.

  He pulled his hand away and allowed the light and the burning to fade again, but he’d been wrong—something had changed. The emerald cast a faint orange glow, but it quickly faded, and the emerald reverted back
to normal.

  Calum grinned. This time, he pressed his palm against the emerald and ignited the light in his palm. He pushed every bit of light he could muster, despite the burn which now crept up his wrist and seared the inside of his forearm. The pain finally heightened to the point where he couldn’t handle it anymore, and he released his palm from the statue.

  As the pain in his arm receded, the emerald glowed a vivid orange reminiscent of fire, and this time it didn’t fade. Behind the statue, rock scraped against rock, and the ground opened into a staircase that descended underground.

  Calum walked around the statue, now flanked by three of the Wisps who’d been keeping watch, and he stared into the black opening at his feet.

  He turned to the nearest Wisp. “Go wake Magnus.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Upon seeing the opening in the ground, Magnus’s grogginess dissipated, replaced by excited energy. Calum had done it. He’d gotten the statue to reveal its secret.

  Magnus descended into the opening with Calum lighting the way from behind him. The staircase stopped fifty steps underground and spilled into an expansive circular room carved into walls of brown rock like that of the Dragon statue. No light permeated the area except for what emanated from Calum’s hand.

  Aside from the stairway, Magnus couldn’t identify any other way in or out. He directed Calum to shine his light around the room to get a better look at everything. Calum complied and confirmed Magnus’s fears.

  There was nothing in the room but a dirt floor.

  “I don’t understand,” Calum said. “Where’s the sword?”

  Magnus grunted. His dreams of avenging his father’s murder threatened to slip through his fingers yet again. “Perhaps someone beat us to it.”

  “That’s pretty unlikely. It only opened to us after I used the light Lumen gave me on the emerald in the statue.”

  “That was a variation of a Dragon Emerald. I have only heard of them before today, but the ancients, including my father, used them as a type of key. Only certain types of energy could activate and release the lock. It was a means to prevent those who were too weak from accessing weapons and relics too powerful and dangerous for them to properly wield.”