The Burning Dark: Dragon Warriors, #5

By April Swanson

The final battle draws near …

 

The Darkness spreads from the North, threatening to smother the world—and only Evan Carter can pierce its heart. But while the Dragon Warriors face this deadly foe, another enemy lurks in the shadows, right under their noses; for the true threat to Jerran has been lying in wait all this time. 

 

One strike of the match, and peace will shatter. All it takes is one wrong move … 

 

THE BURNING DARK is the explosive conclusion to the Dragon Warriors series. 

• Language: English
• Publisher: April Swanson
• Release date: Oct 31, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201922894

April Swanson

April Swanson writes fantasy novels with slow-burn romance, mystery and magic. She loves flawed characters, messy relationships, difficult decisions, and things that sparkle. You can sign up for her newsletter at aprilswanson.com

Book preview

–CHAPTER ONE–

Those Left Behind

The child walked alone through Fenglas Forest. Night was approaching. After dark, wraiths could appear, and night dragons streaked across the sky. But there were far more mundane threats too, like wolves and bears, and unseen roots that could trip you up and turn an ankle.

The child was eleven years old, and his name was Timothy. Timothy ordered himself not to be afraid. His village was still a while away and he didn’t want to run in case he fell. He’d stayed out a little too long, getting carried away with his imagination and playing his favourite game of Dragon Warriors versus the queen, who everyone knew was really stupid and didn’t care about anyone in Fenglas. The queen, his parents said, only cared about the gold crown on her head and attending royal banquets. Timothy sometimes wondered how his parents knew what the queen cared about, but he figured they knew what they were talking about because they were grown-ups.

At the edge of the day, the light can disappear faster than you think. With almost each footstep the shadows lengthened around Timothy. Everything seemed louder as day turned to night: the scratchings in the undergrowth, the breeze through the trees, the thud of his own heart. Timothy distracted himself by humming under his breath. The presence of music, of one of the tunes his father used to sing to him when he was young, helped the forest seem less frightening. Besides, Fenglas was his home, and he was eleven years old now. He was much too old to be scared of the dark.

Unfortunately for Timothy, he was not alone in the forest. Yes, there were always squirrels and birds and insects milling around, and worms in the ground, feasting on the corpses of dead animals—but tonight there was something else. Timothy spotted them out the corner of his eye, darting from tree to tree. Shadows danced around him. He heard the rush of air as something whipped past—something streamline and wicked fast.

Timothy knew what hunted him. Suddenly, his imaginary games didn’t feel so fun. This was all his fault, wasn’t it? He should never have pretended to be a Dragon Warrior.

Timothy burst into a run. He puffed hard as the dark shapes closed in around him. He could smell their hot breath, hear their hungry growls. The village was in sight. If only he could reach it in time ... Timothy pumped his short arms and legs as fast as he could. But the dark shapes were almost upon him. There was a flash of green flame—

A woman leapt from the trees. Bright white-blue flashed in the dark, and the air frosted with Ice. A blade whipped down, quick and sharp. Timothy gasped as the sword whistled past his nose.

Back, back! the woman cried. There was another flash of blinding light as she twirled her great sword overhead.

The dark shapes retreated. They didn’t fancy their chances against the glowing blade.

Be gone, foul beasts!

The woman sheathed her weapon. The job was done. Timothy wept with relief. He threw his arms around the woman.

Do not fear, she said, for it is I, the Green Warrior, come to rescue you. Avery patted the boy on the head.

I thought I was a goner for sure, Timothy said with a sniff.

It is past your bedtime, young man. You should not venture into the forest at night. There are dangerous beasts out here.

Timothy looked up at the Green Warrior, which wasn’t far because Avery was rather short. But you’ll be here to save me, won’t you?

I cannot look after everyone all at once, Avery said solemnly. But should the forest dragons attack again, I swear I will protect you from harm.

Thank you, Dragon Warrior, Timothy beamed.

Now run along, child. Run home to your family. And remember—head straight to bed!

Timothy obeyed without question, scampering off into the village. Avery watched him go. He’d tell his parents all about the brave Green Warrior who’d saved him from the forest dragons, and the word would spread around the village. The people of Fenglas knew they could rely on the Green Warrior to protect them.

Avery retreated deeper into the forest. She climbed a thick tree, scrambling up to the highest branches. She settled herself in a solid nook, and waited.

It wasn’t long until they joined her. They slunk out of the trees, clinging to the branches, their green eyes twinkling with amusement.

Avery grinned. Good job Marlene, Thomas, Little Jack. The dragons slunk around their Warrior, nudging their heads into her hands. She lovingly smoothed them down, petting them as if they were nothing but oversized cats, giving them a good scratch behind the ears. The youngest dragon curled up in her lap. We got him good, didn’t we? said Avery. Gave him a right old scare.

Avery swung her legs over the fat branch, idly stroking the dragons. The forest dragons were incredibly agile, with small, slim bodies and dark emerald scales. They nestled and curled around her, always maintaining a close physical bond. Avery loved nothing more than to come to the forest to play with her dragons. She loved setting them on the villagers then swooping in to the rescue. Lately, Avery had been spending even more time in Fenglas. There’d been that whole business with Morena Moran, the bad elven queen. Even though Avery had stabbed her good and proper, the castle hadn’t been the same since. There were people missing who should be there. 

Avery stayed with her dragons long into the night. Only when her stomach rumbled with hunger did she kiss them goodbye and leap down from the tree. Landing nimbly on her feet, she whistled on her best friend, Silva. Moments later a speckled mare cantered through the forest, shaking out her long grey mane. Avery leapt onto Silva with the same fluid agility as her dragons.

To the castle! she cried.

***

Amidst the sprawling forest of Fenglas, the home of the Dragon Warriors rose tall atop a high cliff. Castle Linnivere had stood on that spot for thirteen hundred years. Countless Warriors had come and gone in that time, but still the black castle endured.

Skye Swift sat before the windows of the solarium, which revealed panoramic views of Fenglas Forest. Skye’s days of late had become even more rhythmic than usual. She took solace in the repetition of the day, of her soothing routine that featured a lot of meditation before the great windows. When Skye wasn’t going about her usual business in the castle, she was out in the forest, smoothing out tensions between villagers, chasing out a wraith, or reassuring the people after the sighting of a dragon. Skye needed to keep her mind active. When she wasn’t performing her duties as a Dragon Warrior, she would sit here in the solarium and focus on her breath, on the drifting clouds. That way, she could forget about the two Warriors who’d left the shores of Durron.

There’d been no word since.

The Red Warrior had travelled north across the ocean to seek the power of the aera, hoping the descendants of the Mothers could bring an end to the Darkness. It was their only hope of stopping it. Yet Scarlet had left Durron with another goal: to bring back the Blue Warrior.

The last time Skye had seen Evan Carter, they’d both been trapped in Castle Linnivere. The dead elven queen, Morena Moran, had cast a dome around the castle to stop anyone from leaving—most importantly, her old lover, Inon Gorik. Avery Jones had stabbed the queen through the heart and the spell had been broken, but Evan had fled the castle with Inon, in a bid to break the curse placed upon him.

Skye had no idea what was happening in the North. All she could do was hope. They should be here, she thought. But the bonds between the Warriors were not strong, despite Skye’s efforts to lead and unite them.

Skye wore her armour even when she was in the castle. The light from the windows caught the gold and bronze, the five-dragon sigil on her chest plate. Skye fully accepted her position at Castle Linnivere. She did not feel bitterness or anger at having being Summoned. Instead, she gave the role everything she had, dedicating her life to it. For being a Dragon Warrior was all her life would be now. Only death would relieve her from her duty, and then someone else would be Summoned to take her place.

Skye was deep in her meditation when Tristan Allard entered the solarium. The Black Warrior had rarely shown his face since waking from his dark sleep. He had been infected by the Darkness at the top of the Hidden Mountain, in a battle with the night dragon, Mur. Skye had frozen Tristan to stop the spread of the Darkness, and, to spare Evan, Inon himself had released Tristan from his hold. Since Tristan had regained control of his own mind, he had not left the castle, but taken to shutting himself in his room all day.

How are you feeling? Skye asked.

Tristan ignored the question. The dark circles around his eyes were answer enough. He’d been recovering from his ordeal with the Darkness, but there was something else keeping him up at night. Tristan had a secret daughter called Christine, who lived up north in Dareal. Christine’s mother was dead, and Tristan had convinced himself he couldn’t raise a child at the Linn. Instead he’d handed Christine into the care of another family, and sent gold for her upkeep.

But before he’d been struck down at the Hidden Mountain, Tristan had made a promise: he would go to his daughter at last. He would reveal himself as her true father. But now the time had come, and Tristan wasn’t sure he could do it.

He joined Skye by the windows of the solarium. Together they watched the sun set over the forest.

What do you think’s happening up there? Skye asked.

I see no point in speculating, he replied.

Humour me.

Tristan kept his eyes down. I believe, he said, that Scarlet will do everything she can to succeed.

And Evan? Skye asked softly.

I fear for her.

Tristan had often thought about the Blue Warrior since waking from his dark dreams. He wished he could return her affection; she was hard-working, intelligent, attractive. On paper, she was a perfectly suitable partner. But for so long Tristan had been consumed by the ghost of Christine’s mother. Only recently had he begun to explore the possibility of loving another. Yet it had not been Evan who had woken his heart.

The castle doors opened and Avery Jones scampered in to join them. No sign of our missing comrades? she asked.

I’m afraid not, said Skye.

Avery stuck out her bottom lip. It was an accurate representation of the mood in the castle. Until Scarlet and Evan returned, all they could do was wait.

–CHAPTER TWO–

Theatrics

On the eastern coast of Jerran lay the capital city, Ipsal. Ipsal was the kind of city that benefited from a sea breeze to dilute the aroma rising from the city’s inhabitants. The sewage system was rudimentary, to put it politely, and with that many people crammed into a tight space, it was only natural to have something of a pong.

The city crowded around the hill that sat in the centre. On top of this hill stood the palace of Firefall. This palace had been the centre of Jerran rule since the fall of the Durron Empire. In the early days of Jerran the elves had sat upon the throne, but now they were all in Estaven, thank goodness, and humans alone governed the oldest realm in Durron.

These days House Leviathet ruled Jerran, and had done so for a long time. So long, in fact, that the current queen, Estrella Leviathet, couldn’t even list all of her ancestors who’d graced the throne. She usually got stuck after four.

There were always hundreds of torches burning at Firefall, no matter the hour. And wherever you went, you inevitably happened upon a rose of some kind. These could be carved into stone, chiselled in wood, or, more traditionally, stuck into plant pots, which got in everyone’s way. House Leviathet had always been big on egotistical decorating.

The large courtyard at Firefall was usually abloom with roses, but today they’d been moved to the side to make way for a temporary stage and rows of chairs. There was a new theatre group in Ipsal, and word of their excellence had reached the queen’s ears. They’d been invited to perform their latest play at Firefall, in front of the queen herself.

What’s the play about? the queen asked.

I’m not sure, said Councillor Mei. I believe it concerns the history of Jerran.

Estrella wrinkled her nose. Sounds boring. I’d much prefer a comedy.

Councillors Friggate and Jameson also joined the queen for the play, alongside Chief Colquhoun. And there was one more councillor invited: Councillor Lynette Allard. This had come as something of a shock, albeit a pleasant one, as Lynette’s reputation at Firefall had taken a few knockings of late, and she’d found herself relegated to the basement, overseeing renovations for the queen’s new dressing room. To be invited to the play was a clear signal from Estrella, and Lynette was more than ready to seize the opportunity. Chief Colquhoun was suffering from a particularly bad cough and surely had to die soon. The queen would choose Chief Colquhoun’s successor, and Lynette had been eyeing the chief’s position for years.

Sadly, so had Councillor Mei, who’d been using Lynette’s fall from favour to her advantage, acting as Estrella’s shadow.

The queen and her closest advisors took their seats in the front row. Chief Colquhoun and Councillor Mei bagged seats either side of the queen. Captain Maccrae took a seat beside Lynette, along with the new Chief of Swords. Lynette didn’t know him, and thought he looked a bit wet around the ears.

Councillor, good to see you around, said the captain.

I’ve been overseeing refurbishment of the queen’s new dressing room, Lynette replied, with as much dignity as she could muster.

I suppose she needs somewhere to put all her gowns, the captain said generously. Both she and Councillor Allard had felt a renewed bond since Ramon Subramani had been banished from Jerran. They’d been his closest friends and confidantes within Firefall, and they both still mourned the loss. Is there any chance the queen could use one of the gowns to find herself a husband? the captain said in a low whisper. If the line of succession were to be secured, I would sleep much better at night.

As would Lynette. She didn’t want to think about what would happen should Estrella die without an heir. She had dedicated her life to serving Estrella. If there were to be a new monarch on the throne, Lynette doubted she’d hang on in favour. Worse yet, there was the possibility that Kerraven, weak as it was, could seize the opportunity if the throne was left vacant. The