Kathir's Redemption (Book 6) Read online

  Kathir’s Redemption

  Book Six of the Dragon Stone Saga

  Kristian Alva

  Defiant Press

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Map of Durn

  Other Books in the Dragon Stone Saga

  Kathir's Redemption

  Dragons of Durn

  1. The Dungeons of Balbor

  2. The High Priest

  3. The Hangman’s Square

  4. The Fall of Mount Velik

  5. Fleeing the Mountain

  6. The Refugees

  7. Negotiations

  8. The High Council Speaks

  9. Back to Parthos

  10. An Ambush

  11. Kathir Speaks

  12. Old Wounds

  13. The High Priestess

  14. Bad Blood

  15. Return to Mount Velik

  16. Into the Tunnels

  17. King Nar Speaks

  18. Runestones and Markers

  19. Destruction

  20. The Clans Choose

  21. The Final Encounter

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Copyright Notice

  Kathir’s Redemption: Book Six of the Dragon Stone Saga (Chronicles of Tallin)

  Copyright Notice. ©Defiant Press, 2015.

  First Edition. This book contains material protected under International and Federal copyright laws and treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted without express written permission from the publisher, www.defiantpress.com.

  Editor: Dorathea Thomas

  Find out more about the author at her official website: www.KristianAlva.com.

  Printed in the United States of America. The Dragon Stone Saga® is a registered U.S. trademark. All rights reserved.

  Other Books in the Dragon Stone Saga

  Original Dragon Stone Trilogy

  Book 1: Dragon Stones

  Book 2: The Return of the Dragon Riders

  Book 3: Vosper’s Revenge

  Chronicles of Tallin Trilogy

  Book 4: The Balborite Curse

  Book 5: Rise of the Blood Masters

  Book 6: Kathir’s Redemption

  The Shadow Grid Trilogy

  Book 7: The Shadow Grid Returns (forthcoming)

  Book 8: The Fall of Miklagard (forthcoming)

  Book 9: Sisren’s Betrayal (forthcoming)

  Kathir's Redemption

  The Dragons of Durn

  Dragons Paired with Riders

  Brinsop, f. carnelian dragon paired with Sela Matu

  Duskeye, m. sapphire dragon, paired with Tallin Arai

  Nydeired, m. diamond dragon, paired with Elias Dorgumir (offspring of Starclaw)

  Orshek, m. onyx dragon, paired with Galti Thallan

  Karela, f. onyx dragon, paired with Holf Thallan

  Starclaw, f. emerald dragon, paired with Chua Hakmorr

  Blacktooth, m. onyx dragon, paired with Fëanor the elf

  Poth, m. onyx dragon, paired with Carnesîr the elf

  Nagendra, f. carnelian dragon, paired with Amandila the elf

  Charlight, f. (deceased), paired with Hanko

  Other Dragons

  Shesha, f. carnelian dragon

  Atejul, m, emerald dragon (offspring of Duskeye and Nagendra)

  1. The Dungeons of Balbor

  Tallin awoke in darkness, deep inside the dungeons of Balbor. Many days ago, their group had gone to Balbor to destroy the temple and had been captured. Tallin, his aunt Mugla, and two elf dragon riders, Amandila and Fëanor, had been dragged into the underground dungeons.

  The Balborites abandoned them in a dark cell without food and then ignored them. Armed guards walked back and forth in front of their cell day and night, the sound of their boots striking the ground on the other side of the door. No one spoke to the prisoners or even acknowledged they were there.

  Tallin glanced over at Mugla. She lay against the far wall, emaciated from hunger. Even Tallin, who was used to going without food for days at a time, could feel the lack of sustenance gnawing at him. Luckily, they had access to water, which was occasionally shoved through the door in a leather water skin.

  There were no windows in the cell—only a tiny slit in the door, which left the air inside stuffy and hot. They were all tied with enchanted ropes, except the elves, who were shackled against the wall.

  Tallin felt his legs throbbing. He had been frozen in the same position for hours. He tried to wiggle his feet to increase blood flow, but it didn’t help much.

  The Balborites had seized all their weapons, but Tallin had managed to conceal a small light crystal in his boot. Tallin kept the magical light deliberately dim when he used it. Any flicker of light was risky, but using the crystal was worth it to stave off despair. Sitting in darkness made their situation feel even worse. The small spark of light that the crystal produced would have been barely noticeable to human eyes, but since Tallin was half dwarf, it was bright enough to see everything around him.

  While Tallin and Mugla sat on the floor, the elves were chained to the wall and, were in much poorer shape. Amandila and Fëanor’s ears were pierced with iron wire, which was designed to disrupt their powerful magic, including their ability to shape-change. Tallin had never thought he would feel any sympathy for elves, but it was impossible not to feel something for the two miserable-looking creatures who hung limply at his side.

  The elves were both semi-conscious. With their ears pierced by iron wire, their carefully-maintained glamour was gone. Their eyes were slick and shiny, their faces swollen and bruised.

  Both had screamed in agony when their ears were pierced, but now they just groaned, twisting their bodies as the iron slowly worked its way through their bloodstream. The iron was poisoning them, weakening them by degrees. Though the elves hung near one another, neither seemed to realize that the other was even there. Or perhaps their pain was so great that they simply didn’t care.

  Tallin could reach out and touch them, and he had tried to remove the iron. But as soon as he had touched it, the wire only twisted tighter, causing Amandila to cry out in pain. He didn’t try again after that.

  Mugla raised her head weakly. “Do ye know what day it is, dear?”

  Tallin shook his head. “I’m not sure. I think it’s been five days, but I’ve lost track of time. I can’t tell if it’s day or night anymore.” He kept his voice low.

  Mugla sat up and propped herself up against the wall. She looked emaciated and had cracks at the corners of her mouth. But when she spoke, her voice was strong and level. “They’re starvin’ us, weakenin’ us.”

  Tallin looked toward the elves. “What about them?” Their faces were almost unrecognizable—grossly swollen and puffy. “Will they survive?”

  “The odds aren’t in their favor, but at least they’re still alive. Keepin’ an elf in captivity is a risky business. Elves are powerful and vindictive if they escape. I’m surprised the Balborites haven’t killed ‘em yet.”

  “I don’t understand why they haven’t killed all of us,” Tallin said.

  “I’m sure they ‘ave their reasons. The High Priest probably wants to make an example out of us. As for the elves, they’ll fare worse than us. We’ll be hanged, but the elves will be tortured. The Balborites will kill them for sport.”


  Tallin raised his eyebrows. “What?”

  A humorless smile lifted the corners of Mugla’s lips. “An elf capture is a rare thing. The high priest enjoys watchin’ ‘em tortured. Because elves are immortal, the show lasts a very long time. They’ll die eventually…but very, very slowly. Sometimes , they chain prisoners to a post and release dogs on them, to tear them apart. They kill rebellious slaves that way.”

  “That’s barbaric,” Tallin said.

  A metal door opened and shut, and then came the sound of heavy footsteps approaching. Tallin put a finger to his lips and shook his head back and forth. He extinguished his light crystal and tucked it carefully back into his boot.

  They watched a square of light at the far side of the room grow as the door to their cell opened. Tallin blinked from the bright light that entered their cell. Skera-Kina stood behind the guard. She was accompanied by a younger man who was dressed similarly, but did not have facial tattoos. Tallin guessed he was her apprentice.

  She pointed at Tallin. “You there…halfling. Stand up. The High Priest demands your presence.”

  The guardsman covered his nose, but the sour smell inside the cell didn’t seem to bother Skera-Kina.

  Tallin stood up and stepped outside, his hands still bound. The guard wrinkled his nose as he passed. The cell door was closed behind him, and the guard remained stationed outside while the two assassins escorted Tallin to a smaller cell at the end of the hallway.

  The room had a bucket of water in the center of the floor, and a clean pair of breeches and a tunic were folded neatly in the corner. Skera-Kina said a quick spell, and the enchanted ropes binding Tallin’s hands fell away.

  “Strip down and bathe yourself, dwarf,” Skera-Kina said. “You must be clean if you are going to be in the presence of the High Priest.”

  “I wouldn’t smell if you idiots had allowed us to use a proper toilet, or given us some clean water,” Tallin retorted.

  “Shut up, filth!” the other assassin barked.

  Tallin stripped down to his underwear and reached inside the bucket. The water was ice cold. There was a pebble of soap at the bottom, and he lathered his arms and face with it. He took a moment to scrub his hair before he poured the bucket over his head to rinse off. They didn’t give him a towel, so he was still wet when he pulled on the clean clothing.

  He smiled despite himself. After so many days inside a filthy cell, it felt good to be clean. He slipped his boots back on carefully, making sure that the hidden crystal didn’t fall out.

  “Turn around and put your hands back behind your back,” Skera-Kina ordered.

  Tallin paused, biting back his desire to fight. He couldn’t risk fighting both of them at close range, especially with Mugla and the elves still in their custody. He had no choice—he had to obey.

  He turned around and put his hands behind his back. He felt new ropes being tightened around his wrists. His body tensed as they placed a cloth bag over his head and cinched it tight around his neck. Tallin stiffened.

  “Where are you taking me?” he asked quietly.

  “No questions,” Skera-Kina said. “You’ll see soon enough. Now move.”

  She grabbed his shoulder and pushed him down the hallway. Tallin winced as her silver-tipped nails dug into his flesh.

  Tallin tried to focus on memorizing the space around him. He counted his steps as they walked and listened to the sounds. They paused a few times while more doors shut behind them. He couldn’t see through the bag, but he felt the air go from sour to fresh and could tell when they walked from stone floors to carpeted ones.

  Skera-Kina said nothing as they walked, but Tallin could hear her rasping breaths behind him. He also heard conversations in the distance. Servants chattered idly and bickered nearby. He heard a sloshing sound as someone used a mop and bucket.

  They walked for a long time, and when they finally stopped, the air smelled faintly of incense. Skera-Kina removed the covering on Tallin’s head.

  “We’ve arrived at the High Priest’s chambers,” said Skera-Kina.

  They stood in front of a huge wooden door. Skera-Kina waved her hand in a slow arc. There was a spark, and the door swung open on its hinges. Then she removed the ropes that bound Tallin’s wrists.

  Tallin stepped back, rubbing his wrists and searching her face. “Why are you removing the ropes now?”

  “Enchanted objects are dangerous in this area,” she replied. “That includes your enchanted ropes. I’ll explain why later. You must kneel in the presence of the High Priest, and do not speak unless he addresses you first.”

  “I’m not going to bow and scrape to one of your priests,” he said.

  She shrugged. “Have it your way. Your obstinacy will only compound your misery. Have no doubt about that. My responsibility is to deliver you to the High Priest’s chambers for questioning. What happens to you afterwards is not my concern.”

  The younger male assassin shoved Tallin’s shoulder. “Get moving.”

  Tallin turned and looked over his shoulder at the other man. “Push me like that again, and I’ll break your arm.”

  The assassin laughed and taunted him, lifting his foot to kick the back of Tallin’s knee. But the man was too slow. In an instant, Tallin spun around and grabbed his forearm. Tallin bore down hard, twisting the young man’s wrist until his whole body turned. Tallin rammed his elbow down hard on the assassin’s chest and heard a whoosh of air as the assassin lost his breath.

  Skera-Kina didn’t intervene; she just stepped back with her arms folded across her chest, and waited for the fight to be over.

  They grappled and both fell to the ground. Tallin rose to one knee and trapped the man’s arm in a viselike grip. He brought his knee down onto the man’s shoulder until the joint popped. The assassin howled in pain.

  “Stop. That’s enough.” Skera-Kina separated them calmly.

  Tallin rose up and backed away.

  Skera-Kina pulled the younger assassin up by his collar, so that he cried out in pain. His right arm hung limply at his side, the shoulder already swollen and jutting outward at an unnatural angle.

  “I’m disappointed in you, apprentice. You’ve lost control and overstepped your boundaries again. Tell me, how will you train for the slave races next month with an injury like that?”

  The apprentice hung his head. “M-mistress, forgive me, I only wanted to—”

  “Be quiet, you hot-headed fool,” she snapped. “Your temper has always been a problem. You must learn how to control it. Return to your chambers and await my displeasure there.”

  “May I request a healer for my injuries, Mistress?”

  “No, you may not,” she said. “I shall set the joint for you personally. But not yet. Now go.”

  She dismissed him with a wave of her hand.

  The apprentice’s lower lip trembled, but he didn’t argue. He turned around and left. Once he was gone, Skera-Kina turned back towards Tallin.

  “I warned him not to touch me,” Tallin said, matter-of-factly.

  Skera-Kina merely shrugged. “Indeed you did. Perhaps I should thank you. It’ll be a good object lesson for him to live with the consequences of his actions for a few days.”

  “A few days?” asked Tallin. “He’s your apprentice… and it’s a very painful injury. Why would you leave him in that condition?”

  She stared at Tallin with an amused expression. “His injury isn’t life-threatening. An apprentice must learn how ignore pain, so this is a good lesson for him. Besides, it’s only a temporary discomfort .” She stepped aside for Tallin to pass. “Now, after you… brother…the High Priest awaits.”

  2. The High Priest

  Tallin walked into a darkened hallway with Skera-Kina trailing behind him. Her steps were soundless on the thick carpet. Part of him wanted to dash for the nearest exit, but he couldn’t attempt an escape while
his aunt and the elves were still imprisoned in the dungeons below. His mind raced—he needed to come up with a plan that would allow all of them to escape.

  As they walked, the smell of incense grew stronger. Tallin reached out and touched the embroidered tapestries lining the wall. The same gory scenes that he had seen in the temple when they were captured also lined the walls here. But despite the gruesome subject matter, the fabric was thick and of very fine quality. A great deal of money had been spent decorating the High Priest’s chambers.

  They turned down another hallway and came to a stop before a locked metal door. There wasn’t a single piece of furniture in the room. Another door on the far wall indicated more rooms beyond. Skera-Kina opened the first door with a large key that she drew from a pouch at her waist. The door swung open with a soft click.

  “No magic this time?” Tallin asked.

  “No spells can open this door. It is warded against magic, as is the High Priest’s chamber. Anyone who attempts to open this door without the key will be killed instantly.”

  “By what?” Tallin looked around him. He saw nothing in the room except for a few wall hangings and some light crystals embedded into the walls.

  Skera-Kina smiled, revealing her sharpened white teeth. “Look under your feet.”

  Tallin looked down. The tiles below his feet had colorful spiral patterns on them. Watching them carefully, he noticed that the patterns seemed to move of their own volition, turning and churning slowly, menacingly. Tallin gasped. “Are those things…”

  “Yes, those are spirit creatures,” Skera-Kina explained calmly, “trapped inside the floor tiles. They are stimulated by magic. Watch.” Skera-Kina opened her palm and sent a single glowing spark toward the floor.

  Tallin looked down and watched as the patterns swirled wildly beneath his feet. Ghostly, grotesque faces came into view, pressing against the tiles. They looked as if they were trapped behind a mirror. The spirits screamed silently, pounding at the walls of their flat prisons. “You’ve trapped dozens of spirit creatures in here?” he asked incredulously.