Blast of the Dragons Fury (Andy Smithson Book One)

  Chapter Nineteen

  The Voice

  Andy woke to fog-filtered sun shining on his face. His restless thoughts from the night before zoomed back to his consciousness, haunting him. After dressing, he slogged up to check on the King.

  “Come in!” the sovereign boomed from the other side of the wooden door.

  The King, dressed in a pin-striped night shirt, sat up in bed. His lap and legs were concealed under thick silky covers. Razen was finishing tasting his breakfast.

  Andy’s eyes grew wide. “Sir!” He raced forward, reaching for Methuselah.

  The King motioned him to stop. “It’s okay, Andy. Razen has filled me in on what happened after I passed out.”

  Yeah, I’ll bet he did… Andy scowled at the taster. Razen returned the gesture then bowed to the King, turned, and left.

  “Sir, Razen grabbed Alden down in the dungeon when we were trying to save you!”

  “Yes, he told me. He said he could only protect one of you. You were too fast, Andy.”

  “He said he was protecting Alden?”

  The King smiled and patted the covers. “Come sit and tell me all about your trip.”

  Andy hesitated, his mind whirling. He finally took three steps and let his weight fall on the bed.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Andy took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, sir.”

  The sovereign’s eyebrows knit together.

  “I failed. I didn’t get a red dragon scale.”

  The King’s smile faded and his chest fell. “What happened?”

  Andy began recounting the details of their trip, trying not to leave anything out. As he got to the part where he and Alden had seen vulture-men on the Great Wall, there came a loud, rapid knocking on the door.

  “Enter,” instructed the King.

  Alden threw open the door and rushed in. “Sorry to interrupt, sir,” he said, looking at the King. Without waiting for permission to speak, he rushed on, “Andy, I was in the dungeon helping clean things up when I found these on the floor.”

  He thrust out his hand. Several curved, shiny, red objects rested in his palm. “Do you know what these are?” A grin spread across his face.

  Andy looked between the objects and Alden. “Are they scales from Abaddon? But how?” Then, looking at the King, he asked, “Is Abaddon a red dragon?”

  “Yes, he is. Why?”

  A smile blossomed across Andy’s face. “But when—?” He thought back to the battle. “I remember plunging Methuselah into his back...” He thought harder. “Right before I stabbed him…” Realization dawned. “That’s right! Just before I stabbed him, I slashed at his back.”

  “You must have cut these scales off,” Alden deduced.

  Andy gasped and jumped up, pumping his fists and yelling, “Yahoo!” drawing laughter from the pair of onlookers.

  After a minute, the King interrupted, “Well, it looks like you succeeded after all.” A grin punctuated his expression. “Now then, where were we.”

  Andy picked up the tale. As he related their brush with the vulture-people in the village of Oohhh, the King’s eyes grew wide. Andy told him about being trapped and then finding they had been drugged.

  “I hate to think what might have happened to you if it weren’t for that gold key,” the King interjected.

  Another knock at the door interrupted. “Enter,” the King commanded.

  “Thought I’d see how the patient’s doing,” explained Hans, approaching to inspect.

  “I brought you some chocolate chip cookies. Figured it might help you heal quicker,” Marta added with a wink and a chuckle.

  “Looks like you’re doing fine, Your Majesty,” Hans pronounced after a thorough examination.

  “Can’t keep a tough ogre like me down.”

  “Tough ogre?” replied Hans. “I didn’t realize I’d been treating an ogre. Well, that certainly explains a few things.” He laughed.

  The group chatted for several minutes until Marta excused herself to go work on lunch. Hans followed a minute later.

  As the door shut, Andy picked up his narrative. The King grew more alarmed when Andy got to the part about vulture-men patrolling the Great Wall. “Sir, Abaddon has gained control of the Wall, at least at that point—”

  “—and at least part of the village of Oohhh,” the King finished. He rubbed his chin. “What’s he up to this time?”

  Another knock sounded at the door.

  “This is certainly a busy place today,” quipped the King, smiling. “Enter.”

  Mermin came in, hoisting up his robe and pushing his glasses back up his nose. “Good morning, sir. Thought I’d see how you’re doing.”

  The King asked Andy to continue with the rest of the story. Once he had finished, his thoughts returned to the voices he kept hearing. “Sir?”

  “Yes, Andy.”

  “When I’m battling something or in deep trouble, I hear a man’s voice yelling at some crazy lady. I keep forgetting to mention it, but I heard it again when I was fighting Abaddon. Every time I’ve heard her, she sounded excited that I was in trouble. This time she shouted, ‘There’s nothing you can do to help him, Father. He’s going to die!’ And then the man’s voice yelled, ‘Imogenia, stop!’”

  The King’s breath caught and he searched Andy’s eyes. “Are you sure that’s what you heard?”

  “Nnnoooo!” shrieked a shrill voice, filling the King’s chambers. “He couldn’t have gotten a red dragon’s scale! After everything I did.” The voice lurched to a halt like a rider yanking a horse’s reins.

  The four looked at each other, mouths gaping.

  “That’s her! I’d recognize that voice anywhere!” Andy pointed at the ceiling.

  “Who?” quaked Alden, eyeing the door.

  The King stiffened. “How?”

  “Sir?” Mermin looked puzzled.

  “If I’m not mistaken, that was Imogenia.” The King’s voice sounded empty, as if in a daze.

  “But she’s…passed on.” Mermin scratched his head.

  “Passed on? As in—dead?” Andy clarified.

  The King nodded, a vacant look eclipsing his face. “Imogenia was my sister.”

  “Sir?”

  “It was because of what I did to her that I brought the curse upon the land. They’ve never spoken to me, but it seems my father and sister are somehow watching us even though they have departed.”

  No one said anything for several minutes.

  Since when do dead people talk? She sure doesn’t sound dead to me. What’d he do to her anyway?

  The King broke the silence when he called out, “Father?”

  Heads pivoted, scanning the ceiling.

  “Father? Are you there?”

  “I am here, son,” a baritone voice answered.

  Andy, Alden, and Mermin all stared at the King, eyes wide.

  “Why didn’t you tell me you’re here?” the King inquired.

  “You did not ask.”

  “It never occurred to me to ask. I’ve never thought about talking to someone who has departed.”

  “Open your mind.”

  “How long have you been here, Father? How are you doing? Is Mother with you? Imogenia?”

  “We are well.”

  “Why are you here?”

  “We are well.”

  “I don’t understand. What do you mean, you’re well? That’s not what I asked.”

  “Open your mind, my son.”

  “Are you here to help break the curse?”

  “We are well.”

  “Can you not say more?”

  A silent minute passed before the King understood. “Ah, I see. You can’t say. Well, can you at least tell me if you’re the one who’s been filling my dreams with things about Andy, like his favorite foods and such, and giving me visions of what he’s doing?”

  Andy glanced at the King. “Really?”

  The sovereign shrugged and raised his eyebrows.

  “Father?”
br />   Silence.

  “Mother?”

  Silence.

  The King sat thinking for another minute. He seemed to be debating something. Finally he called out, “Imogenia?”

  A second later, the man’s voice commanded, “No, Imogenia! I forbid you!”

  “Fine!” came a curt reply. “Then I’m leaving!”

  “Imogenia!” The male voice faded.

  “It appears she’s not very happy about your success, Andy,” the King observed.

  “So it would seem.” And here I thought my family was bad.

  “You’ve no idea how many times I’ve thought about what I’d say to her if I could—” The King shook his head. “After all this time…” His voice trailed off as he looked toward the window. He sat quietly for a minute, rubbing his brow.

  “Sir,” Mermin broke the silence.

  “Yes?”

  “You looked twoubled.”

  “I am. First, I find that Abaddon has penetrated our northern wall and the village of Oohhh. Then I discover Imogenia and my father have been watching me from the afterlife—and she’s reveling in Andy’s obstacles. That last outburst sounds like she may try to do more to thwart us.” The King sighed. “When Methuselah appeared, I knew something catastrophic was in the works. As I said before, that blade does not appear except to overcome significant evil. This is not good, not good at all.”

  Andy’s stomach did a cartwheel, threatening to revolt.

  The King cleared his throat. “You boys have certainly demonstrated diligence and responsibility. I’m very proud of you. I’m sure when the time comes and others learn about what you’ve done, you will command great respect. You’ve earned it.”

  Mermin nodded his agreement.

  The King smiled then cautioned, “Please be sure not to tell anyone about any of this just yet. We have more ingredients to collect. The fog still lingers. The curse is not yet broken.”

  “Yes sir,” the boys replied in unison.

  “So, what’s the next ingredient we need to collect?” asked Alden.

  “I don’t know,” replied the King. “Perhaps we should consult the gold book. Hopefully it will tell us.”

  “I guess I’m not going home anytime soon then, am I?”

  “We need to alert your family. They must be worried sick,” the King announced.

  “I could dwop them a note. Send it with the Appeawo Beam,” Mermin suggested.

  The King leaned in. “Andy, you said the sender of that message sphere claimed responsibility for bringing you.”

  Andy bobbed his head.

  “I don’t want to hold you against your will, Andy, although we could really use your help.” The King glanced at his mage.

  There’s something big and bad going to happen. Andy swallowed. They treat me differently here; they’re nice and don’t yell at me. And now Alden’s my friend… The decision came easily: “I’d like that.”

  “Yeah!” Alden cheered, giving Andy a fist bump and drawing a chuckle from the wizard.

  “Thank you, Andy.” A half smile broached the King’s lips.

  “Where should we keep these?” Alden held up a fistful of red dragon scales. “Would you mind if I keep one?”

  “No, go ahead. But I better put the rest in the gold book for safekeeping.” Andy started to stand but spotted the purple crest on the King’s desk. “Can I ask you one more question, sir.”

  “Of course, what is it?”

  “Where did you get that?” Andy pointed.

  The King followed Andy’s finger. “Bring it here, please.”

  Andy did so. The sovereign studied it, slowly running his finger over the pattern. His eyes betrayed sadness. “This used to be my family crest. When I dishonored my family, my father forbade me from using it anymore. After that, I designed the crest we currently use.” He sighed. “Why do you ask?”

  Andy hesitated, remembering the note had told him not to mention the trunk to anyone. Surely it would be okay to tell them. “Sir, the night before I came here, I was up in my attic during a thunderstorm. I’d seen the light come on and then mysteriously turn off. I thought it was strange, so I went to investigate. In the dark, I tripped over an old trunk that I’d never seen before. When I opened it, I saw what I think is a sheath for a dagger. It had this crest on it. I’m sure it was the same.”

  The King’s eyes darted to Andy. His face took on a look of alarm and he opened his mouth to speak. But before he could utter a word, the thunderous roar of an angry woman filled the room: “Andrew Farrin Smithson! What in the world do you think you’re doing?”

  Instantly everything went black for Andy.

  Andy’s behind absorbed the shock as he splashed down on the flooded kitchen floor. Mom stood glaring at him, hands on her hips, a posture he knew could mean only one thing. Water flowed everywhere: it poured off the counter, down the cabinet front, and from between the cabinet doors. His pants slurped up the wet. He dropped the red dragon scales.

  “What have you been doing, young man? I told you not to make a mess! Just look at this kitchen! Where did you get that blue T-shirt? What are those?” She pointed at the dragon scales. “And what is that thing hanging around your neck? What in the world have you been doing?”

  “Mom!”

  “I don’t want to hear it, Andy!”

  “No! This is terrible! How am I supposed to help break the curse if I’m here?” Then, staring at the ceiling, he shouted, “I’m sorry I said anything about the trunk. I need to go back! They need me! Send me back!” Andy protested, flailing his arms.

  Mom gasped. “Fred. Fred! Please come here and talk to your son!”

  On the scene in an instant, Dad shot Mom a look that held more than alarm at the mess, leaving Andy to wonder: What are they not telling me?

  “If you enjoyed this book, would you leave a review where you downloaded it? As an indie author trying to get established, it would mean a lot. Thanks so much!” - L. R. W. Lee

  Andy Smithson Trivia