DRAGON SIGHT

  THE DRAGONWALKER BOOK 7

  D.K. HOLMBERG

  Copyright © 2018 by D.K. Holmberg

  All rights reserved.

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  CONTENTS

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Author’s Note

  Also by D.K. Holmberg

  CHAPTER ONE

  The city of Anuhr had a somber air to it. Normally, there was a vibrancy to the capital city of the empire, but over the last month, that vibrancy had disappeared, fading like so many things within the empire. A pall from the recent attack hung over the city, and now sculptures were scattered all around the city, similar to those that Fes once would have called totems. Now he was no longer was certain whether to view them in such a way. These totems were nothing like the totems that he had fought.

  They were dragon sculptures and were placed throughout the city. There was something about the statues that called to Fes, though not in the same way the dragonglass statues had. These had been carved by artisans who were not nearly as skilled as those who had created the dragonglass sculptures, though Fes still didn’t know if the dragons themselves had been responsible for their creation.

  He paused in front of a house with a statue that came to his knees. It was well-made, and there was something about it that reminded him of the dragons that he had seen, suggesting that whoever had crafted it had some experience with them. The wings were curled around so that it made it look as if the dragon rested on them. There was a contouring to the body of the dragon, giving it an almost scaled appearance in a way that the dragonglass sculptures never had. A few sharp prominences protruded from the sculpture, creating a spiked appearance.

  As Fes crouched in front of it, the door opened, and an older woman appeared. She held onto a broom, pointing it toward him. Fes got to his feet, smiling at her, but it faded when he realized the agitation within her.

  “Did you think you would steal it?” she snapped at him.

  He shook his head. “No. I was just admiring the detail within it.”

  “You’ll find that my protection is much more secured than most. You’re not going to be able to steal it.”

  “I don’t want to steal it.”

  She swung the end of the broom forward, forcing Fes to duck back. “Everybody has been trying to steal it, as if mine is any more impressive than any other.”

  He took another step away from her and looked around the street. There were other sculptures much like hers, though hers was one of the largest. They had been cropping up over the last month, increasingly common around the city since the attack. “I’m not trying to steal it at all,” he said. “As I said, I was just admiring the detail.”

  She paused, frowning at him a moment, and her gaze seemed to linger as she took him in, noticing the sword strapped at his waist for the first time. Her breath caught, and she tilted her head. “You? One of the Dragon Guard?”

  Fes glanced down at his sword before lifting his gaze and meeting her eyes. “Not exactly.”

  She swung her broom toward him, and he danced back again. “You stole it?”

  He shook his head. “Not exactly.”

  “If not one of the Dragon Guard, you shouldn’t have one of their swords. Why is it that you do?”

  He nodded toward the dragon sculpture.

  Her gaze trailed after his and when she looked down at the dragon, her breath caught yet again. “The Rider?”

  Fes shrugged.

  “Why are you here?”

  “I’m looking for a particular type of sculpture,” he said.

  “There are several in the city who do fine work. Jonas Tellorn has done quite skillful work, and he created this sculpture, though he has quite a significant backlog now and I don’t know if you would find it easy to get in with him. There is Renate Argas, but some fools think that a woman can’t sculpt as well as a man. I find her work a bit rudimentary, but not all feel the same way. I suppose when it comes to these sculptures, we can each have our own opinion. And then there is a new sculptor, Tracen Foshan, but I haven’t seen enough of his work to know how skilled he is.”

  Fes had heard some rumors that Tracen had transitioned from working on his traditional blacksmith work to making dragon sculptures. That was better than the totems that he had been making, though only a little bit. It was possible that the dragons could be controlled in the same way as the totems, though Azithan had been working with the sculptures they had discovered and there had been no evidence of any control of them. “How is it that you know so much about the sculptures?”

  She smiled to herself. “I am something of a collector. I have much experience with them.”

  Fes cocked his head to the side, watching her. “What sort of collector?”

  “One who has seen a great many things in my days within the empire.”

  “Is that right?”

  “I never expected to see a dragon.”

  “Neither did I,” he admitted.

  “If you are him, then you’ve not only seen a dragon, have you?”

  Fes focused for a moment, reaching for his connection to the distant dragon. As far as he could tell, the dragon was flying in the north, circling over the dragon plains, though he still didn’t know what the dragon hunted for. Perhaps nothing other than evidence of more of his kind. There were times when the dragon would do that, when he would drift off, flying on his own, leaving Fes, but they were never truly separated. Now that they had formed a bond between them, a connection that allowed his Deshazl magic to protect the dragon and the dragon to protect him, there was an unspoken connection.

  “Perhaps.”

  “Why are you out here?”

  “I already told you. I’m looking for other sculptures.”

  “What do you intend to do if you find them?”

  “Some of them are far more valuable than others.”

  Her gaze drifted down to her sculpture. “The empire can’t confiscate my sculpture.”

  “I’m pretty sure the emperor has no interest in confiscating any sculptures.”

  “That’s not what I hear.”

  “What do you hear?”

  People were moving along the street, and every so often, Fes would look up to ensure that no one pushed too closely near him. It was a reminder of when he had been younger, living on the streets, forced to fend for himself. It had been a long time since he had struggled on the streets of Anuhr, but this was a place that had been formative for him, even if it was not the land of his birth.

  “Agents of the empire have taken some sculptures from collectors.”

  Fes met her eyes without saying anything.

  “You don’t deny it.”

  “I don’t deny that there are sculptures that benefit the empire more than they benefit others.”

  “So you intend to confiscate those that appeal to the emperor.”

  “No. I intend to confiscate those that carry with them the power of the dragons.”

  Her eyes widened, and Fes had started to turn when she hurried toward him, swinging her broom in front of him, preventing him from going any further. “What did you say?”

  He shook his head. “I said nothing of importance.”

  “On the contrary. You said that you will claim sculptures that carry with them the power of dragons?”

  “It’s nothing,” Fes said.

  “It’s something.”

  “If you hear word of any particularly exquisitely made sculptures, send word to the palace.”

  “And why would I do that?”

  “Because you want to keep your protection.”

  She glared at him, tapping him briefly with the broomstick. “Just because you’re a dragon rider doesn’t mean that I need to treat you any differently than I would treat any other scoundrel who came my way.”

  “Scoundrel?”

  “Scoundrel. A thief. The kind of man who would come through this part of the city and attempt to intimidate us.”

  “I didn’t try to intimidate you at all.”

  “You don’t know what it’s like living out in the city. As someone who gets to live within the palace, you don’t know what those of us who survive on the streets have to endure.”

  Fes smiled again. “You might be surprised.”

  “You?”

  He shrugged. “I wasn’t always so lucky. If you do find any evidence of particularly unique dragon sculptures, please send word. I’ll make sure that you’re rewarded.”

  “I will think about it.” She spun, sweeping her way back toward her home, and disappeared inside the faded blue door.

  Fes looked back, studying the dragon sculpture for a moment. Hers was more impressive than most of them out on the street. Most of the sculptures had detail, but few were as impressively made as the one that she had. Perhaps he should visit with the sculptor to see whether he had any experience with the dragonglass sculptures, though more likely than not, he simply had seen one of the dragons flying overhead. They were no longer a unique sight, not as they once had been.

  Fes had encouraged the dragons to avoid the main part of the city, suggesting that perhaps the people within Anuhr would struggle with the appearance of dragons, worrying about what it meant as the empire worked to get word out about the role they had in removing the dragons the last time they flew freely.

  Unfortunately, they had to combat a thousand years of rumor and misdirection, the kind of rumor that had been necessary at the time but now was detrimental to convincing others what role the empire might play.

  He continued to make his way along the street, pausing at several other sculptures as he went. Most of them were impressive, and even a year ago, sculptures like this would not have been found within the city. Not because the people feared dragons, but they didn’t view them as protectors. There was something to be said about the perception here that the dragons would somehow offer a level of protection from threats. Fes worried about what it meant for the empire, but that was not his responsibility. Regardless of what Azithan wanted from him, he didn’t serve the empire—at least, not directly.

  It had been over a month since he had returned, and in that month, he had struggled with his next plan of action. It would have to be more than what he’d done. He knew that leaving the Damhur to prepare was dangerous, yet at the same time, he didn’t want to run the risk of attacking without having a plan in place. Planning wasn’t necessarily a strength of his, so Fes didn’t know what he would do other than continue to try to rescue and raise as many dragons as possible. In that, he went against the wishes of the empire.

  Were it up to Azithan and the emperor, Fes would hold off raising any more dragons until they had a better handle on what needed to transpire. Fes felt differently, not the least because he could connect to the dragons, and having spoken to them, he recognized that there was a need to bring back as many of the creatures as he could. There was something within the dragons themselves that he detected, an urgency, and until he understood the reason behind it, he intended to continue to pursue as many of the dragonglass sculptures in which the essence of the dragons had been stored.

  Part of him raged with a nervous sort of energy. He didn’t love remaining in the city, waiting on what might occur, knowing that the odds of another attack remained high. The Damhur were nothing if not strategic in their thinking, and though they no longer were able to Call the dragons, and they might not even be able to Call all of the Deshazl, there was still the issue of the overwhelming number of Damhur compared to the Deshazl. If the empire chose not to attack, if the emperor decided to stay out of it, thinking that there was no need to cross the ocean, the danger of another attack didn’t disappear.

  Every so often, the sense of fire mage magic bloomed within the city. Fes paused when he detected it, turning toward the sense of that magic, and listened to it. There was a distinct feature to it that he was able to make out, and when he could, it called to him.

  Jayell.

  He was comforted knowing that she remained nearby. As far as he knew, she continued to train with the fire mages, working on increasing her skill and competence, growing her powers. In the time that he had known her, she had gone from a capable fire mage to incredibly skilled. Azithan wouldn’t say it, but he suspected that Jayell would rival his skill soon.

  Other spells built around Fes, a marker of the fire mages and their power. They were defensive spells, wrapping around the city, pushing outward, rolling away from the city itself and stretching throughout the entirety of the empire. When Fes had flown with the dragon, soaring high overhead, he had felt the effects of those spells. That was another technique Azithan had taken advantage of, using a variety of spells positioned throughout the empire to create a buffer and perhaps a way of alerting when and if the Damhur chose to attack again.

  His path took him through various sections of the city. Much of Anuhr remained intact following the Toulen attack, but there were parts where Fes could see the damage caused by the totems. Some homes had been completely demolished, and while efforts remained underway to rebuild, the work was slow, and there was just too much destruction for everyone to rebuild quickly.

  Turning a corner, Fes encountered one such street. The buildings here were little more than piles of rubble, and he watched as people worked together, sorting through it, stacking the usable brick from one home off to the side while carrying others elsewhere. There were probably a dozen people who worked without speaking, though there was a certain intensity to their movements. Not only that, but a solemn air hung over everything.

  All of this because of a war that had been raging for a thousand years.

  That was something the people within the city had yet to fully understand. Most of them blamed Toulen for the attack, and while they were responsible, they weren’t the ones ultimately responsible for what had taken place here. That was the Damhur, and while Fes wanted the Damhur and the Deshazl to work together, he understood that working together involved more than simply convincing the Damhur to abandon the attack. More likely than not, it would involve fighting, and as much as he didn’t love the idea, with the dragons, he didn’t fear fighting as he once would have.

  Continuing down the street, he saw a stark reminder that things were different here than they were in other parts of the city. Whereas other places that he had ventured had dragon sculptures situated outside of the homes, here there were none. Fes understood why that would be. The people here had experience in sculptures reacting in dangerous ways, and it really wasn’t that much of a stretch to believe that the dragon sculptures would suddenly behave the same way the totems once had.

  As he made his way through, he paused, listening to the people talking to each other, working together to continue to remove the debris. There was a coordination here, and it seemed as if everyone was comfortable as they worked together.

  “Can you help us?” one of the men asked, making his way toward Fes with an armload of bricks.

  Fes glanced over. It would be a simple matter to join in, to work with the others while they were cleaning up the remains of the destruction, yet he wasn’t sure how he could do that. He needed to continue searching for sculptures. Anything that took him away from that was merely a distraction, regardless of how useful a distraction it might be.

  “I’m sorry, but I’m on a task for the emperor.”

  The man eyed him for a moment, seeming to take in his dress, his gaze then darting to Fes’ sword. “Is that right? Why don’t you tell the emperor that he has abandoned us? I know he got the palace cleaned up within days, but the rest of us aren’t nearly so lucky. He’s got plenty of soldiers there that could be deployed to help with us.”

  “I understand your concern,” Fes said. This wasn’t the kind of argument he wanted to get into, especially as he didn’t disagree with the man. There were things the emperor could do differently, something that Fes had suggested to Jayell and then to Azithan, but they were the kind of things the emperor simply didn’t consider. Were it up to him, he would send soldiers out through the streets as this man requested, looking to try to provide them with help of some sort, if only to clear out the debris.

  “You don’t understand. Look at you. You live up in the palace, with your comfortable bed and expensive clothing. You don’t know what it’s like for us who have nothing. Everything destroyed. And for what?”

  “Because of the emperor, that’s why,” another man said, approaching. His face was blackened, streaked with sweat, and his hair was greasy. Tattered clothing hung on him, a size too large. As Fes scanned the street, he realized that most of these people looked to be underfed.

  And here he had been able to convince himself that the devastation within the city was not nearly as bad as he had thought. Partly that was his own fault. When he had gone through the city, he had generally avoided places like this. Fes had told himself that he had done so because he had wanted to find more dragon sculptures, but perhaps that wasn’t the entirety of it. Maybe he needed to be honest with himself and admit that he hadn’t wanted to see the destruction.

 

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