Dragons of Siberia

By Thomas K. Carpenter

Stranded in Siberia, Kat and Ben must navigate the snowy wastes to make it to Moscow so they can stop the god Veles from taking over their world. But surprises lurk in the north, one from her past days in Empress Catherine's court, and the other a creature out of legend. To survive, Kat needs to confront more than her past.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Thomas Carpenter
• Release date: May 4, 2022
• ISBN: 9781005267063

Thomas K. Carpenter

Thomas K. Carpenter resides in Colorado with his wife Rachel. When he’s not busy writing his next book, he's out hiking or skiing or getting beat by his wife at cards. Visit him online at www.thomaskcarpenter.com, or sign up for his newsletter at https://www.subscribepage.com/trialsofmagic.

Book preview

Dragons of Siberia

Book Seven of the Dashkova Memoirs

By

Thomas K. Carpenter

Copyright Information

Dragons of Siberia

Book Seven of the Dashkova Memoirs

Copyright © 2016 by Thomas K. Carpenter

Published by Black Moon Books

www.blackmoonbooks.com

Cover Design Copyright © 2016 by Ravven.com

Discover other titles by this author on:

www.thomaskcarpenter.com

This is a novel work of fiction. All characters, places, and incidents described in this publication are used fictitiously, or are entirely fictitional.

No part of this publication may be reproduced or trasmitted, in any form, or by any means, except by an authorized retailer, or with written permission of the publisher. Inquiries may be addressed via email to [e-mail]

CONTENTS

Dragons of Siberia

Shadows of an Empire Sample

About the Author

Hundred Halls Books

Other Works

Copyright

Start Reading Now

Chapter One

Siberia had long been the dumping ground for criminals, prisoners, and anyone that got in the way of the Russian Empire. I'd long heard stories of men freezing to death, or slicing their own throats when the food ran out. I was beginning to see the attraction.

Rowan Blade and I had been tramping through the snow-laden hills, making our way south, while Ben, Brassy, and Harvest stayed with the hut. I'd been complaining about the snow when a ridge had given way and dumped me halfway down a slope that ended at the edge of a cliff.

Rowan was trying to pull me back up with a long, skinny branch. It made for a terrible rope. I wasn't sure what kind of spruce it was, but I knew one thing, it oozed sap like a Cossack in a sweat lodge. The sticky substance turned my woolen gloves into magnets for pine needles, chips of bark, and frozen mud, all competing for space with the clumps of wet snow clinging like berries.

It wasn't made for climbing either. The tree branch crackled as I tried to haul myself up its length without the use of my right arm.

I'd been following Rowan. She was the second witch that I'd met after joining the Transcendent Society. Rowan worked for my enemy Veles, but had agreed to help me due to the sisterhood she said we shared. Not that I had much choice after Siobhan, the third witch of the hut, had tried to kill me and left me, Ben Franklin, and Brassy on the frozen taiga.

I didn't break my neck, or tumble off the edge of the cliff that lay a few meters beneath my current location. I'd used my magic to slow my slide, though I was lucky. In the tumbling and sliding, I could have very well given myself a boost of speed, shooting myself off the edge to crash into the tall pines below.

Stop trying to climb it and just hold on. I'll pull you up, said Rowan, looking over the crown of the slope. Despite the days of travel, with a thick woolen cloak lined in ermine around her shoulders, hair perfectly coifed, and lips bloodred, she looked like she'd been lounging at court. Whenever she moved, the faint sound of bones rattling layered behind the background noises.

We'd almost made it to a ridge of rock that led to a pass between the hills. The valley stretched out below, thick patches of green surrounded by white. A hazy blue frozen lake lay at the center of the valley, its surface stripped of snow by the wind that whipped through the hills.

The gray clouds were thick with snow. A few flakes had fallen earlier, but otherwise the clouds seemed to be waiting for the most inopportune time to dump their load on us.

I can make it, I said. I don't want to accidentally drag you off the cliff with me. It would be a shame if after all these millennia you died from an idiot companion.

Rowan raised her dark eyebrows at the mention of millennia, which was her way of saying that length of time wasn't even close to the truth.

You're not very good at letting people help you, said Rowan.

I ignored her comment and pulled myself along the branch. My right arm wasn't broken, but it hurt every time I put weight on it.

Rowan chuckled at me. You're smearing sap everywhere. If you would hold on, I can get you up, and you don't have to injure yourself any longer or get any more sap on you.

If you would let me use my magic, I could get up right away, I said, looking up at her.

Better we save our strength. We don't know how much further it is to find a village, and you shouldn't rely on it when there's a more mundane solution, she said.

You call this mundane?

Rowan smiled, her generous lips creasing around the corners. It's not good footing up here. You'd probably land and then slip back down over the cliff.

You're positively enjoying this, aren't you? I asked.

Not really, she said. We could have been done with this five minutes ago if you'd just let me pull you up. How in the world did Catherine put up with you?

I opened my mouth to rebuke Rowan, but the comment had stung, which meant it was the truth. During our two weeks in the snow-encrusted boreal forest, heading in a southwesterly direction, we'd been telling stories about ourselves. I'd spoken at length about my time at the Russian court. I'd never once told Rowan about the many times Catherine had complained that I never let her help me, but the ageless witch had inferred enough from what I had said.

I was about to give a response when a terrible howl reached us from below in the valley. Though it had a resemblance to wolf song, it was as if the wolf had been kept in the cold for a thousand years and then cracked like ice. The halting, soul-cringing sound brought flat worry to Rowan's lips.

What was that? I asked in a hushed whisper.

Rowan didn't answer. In a way, she didn't have to. I saw the fear reflected in her gaze. For an immortal witch to be worried about the sound of broken wolves gave me pause.

A second howl, from a different location in the valley, snapped Rowan's head around. Her eyes rounded and her lips squeezed tighter.

Clearly whatever that was could be a problem. I'll just use my magic and get this over with, I said tightly.

The hissing, No! nearly made me lose my grip. "No. Not now. Do not use your magic for any reason. Any. Don't even call it to your mind."

The severeness of the rebuke wounded me. Without taking her gaze off the valley, she whispered, We're being hunted.

By what? I asked.

"The sajhingatti. They are spawn of Veles. Think of them as wolves of shadow that eat magic. Neither of us would survive their attentions," she said.

Surely they couldn't harm you, I said.

I might survive, but the hut is in terrible shape, she said, leaning over the edge. Let's get you up. The longer you're on this slope, the more we tempt fate. So trust me and let me pull.

I gave her a reluctant nod. Rowan put her back into it and yanked on the long needle-covered branch. It took every bit of my self-control not to try to pull myself up, which probably saved me.

The branch was green and had split along its length. The piece I was holding onto ripped away like frayed rope, peeling until I'd slid another two meters down. The bough was now nearly twice its original length, only held together by a thin strip. My boots dangled off the edge, the yawing space beneath seeming to pull me down.

I opened my mouth to speak, when a broken howl rose from the forest at the base of the cliff. The nearness sent prickles across my back. The wolves of shadow had found us.

Chapter Two

This wasn't the first time I'd been stuck in a high place without a safe egress. When I was a new mother in Moscow, I often took my daughter, Anastasia, into the city on expeditions to show her the grand architecture.

Anastasia loved the towers of the city. Borovitskaya Tower. Iberian Gate. Admiralty Building. Menshikov Tower.

But she loved the Ivan the Great Bell Tower most of all because it gave a spectacular view of the city and wasn't frequented by tourists.

It had been a frigid day, when breath seemed to freeze directly to the lips, and we'd wrapped our faces with woolen scarves. Normally, I wouldn't have brought Anastasia out, but Mikhail's relatives were visiting and I'd had enough of their veiled insults.

I'd smuggled a few apples and cheese into the tower and we'd picnicked there, watching the people move through the city in their bundled clothes. It was painfully cold, but Anastasia kept breaking into fits of giggles as she made up stories about each person we saw.

We were having such a good time, I didn't realize that the bell tower had been locked up for the evening. In cold winters, farmers had fireplaces in their barns so the livestock didn't freeze to death. I knew we wouldn't survive the night in the tower, so I scaled down the outside to the level right below us using a rope we made out of our jackets.

From there, I was able to find the steward of the tower, who had nearly left for the night. He unlocked the tower and admonished us for dawdling and risking our lives. I apologized and took Anastasia back home, and neither of us spoke of that again.

I wished my present circumstances would resolve themselves as simply as they had that day. I would take a bit of admonishment, rather than plummeting from a great height or being devoured by creatures of magic.

As I was contemplating the past, the branch shifted, sending me in a downward direction another few inches. Rowan was holding on, but not trying to pull up, as it would finish ripping the branch. There was only a section about a foot long holding the two halves together.

The presence of the stalking creatures made communication difficult. We didn't want to betray our position.

The ice seemed more stable here than further up, so I released the spruce and found a handhold. After testing my weight, I started pulling myself up on my belly.

The slope was angled, but not so much that I couldn't use my knees to leverage myself upward. One handhold at a time, I climbed.

When a piece of ice the size of a brick broke off and slid off the cliff, it crashed through the trees, sending cascades of snow to fall from the branches. I grimaced.

Moments later, three separate wolves howled in succession, triangulating onto our position. Rowan made motions for me to hurry. I kept climbing until I reached the upper half of the branch and clamped on. Rowan pulled me up and over the ridge.

Quietly as we could manage, we ran. Every crunch of snow sounded like gunfire in my ears. The wolves hadn't howled since the ice fell, so we had no idea where they were. I kept expecting one to lunge from the undergrowth.

On the other side, we found a deer path through the trees. A small herd of the hooved creatures had passed this way earlier in the day, making our traverse easier. We made good time into the next valley.

As the snow started falling, first in random flakes, then heavily, the wolves howled again. But they were far behind us.

Can they hunt like normal wolves using smell? I asked, thinking of the path down the hill.

Only if we use magic, said Rowan, shifting the straps on her pack. But I think we should be safe now.

It's getting dark, but I think we should press on rather than make camp. I'd rather not meet those wolves again, I said.

We marched until the darkness made travel too dangerous. Then we set up our small tent, climbing in together right away. There would be no fire tonight.

We ate dried meats and fruits in the darkness while the wind whistled through the trees. There was enough space between us that we could move our arms, but not much else.

Before we fell asleep, Rowan put a hand on my arm. You should trust me next time.

I'm not sure I can, I said.

I never meant to hurt you before, she said. I didn't intend for you to get mixed up with the Gamayun.

But you did intend to sow chaos in the city, to make Veles' job easier, I said, the accusations thick in my tone.

Yes, I did. Because I had sworn to Veles to carry out his plan. I have completed his task and have accepted no new ones, so I am free to make my own choices again. I choose to assist you in your endeavors at this time, she said.

What about taking me back to Russia? I asked.

She chuckled. Are you not in Russia?

You know what I mean. Not Russia, but to Veles, I said, wishing I could see her face.

It seems you are going to do that anyway, though I can't imagine what you think you might accomplish, she said.

We have to eliminate the shield, I said, nodding towards the sky. Or they will take over the world.

How do you propose to do that? she asked.

Right now I want to save my friends. I'll figure out the shield once we've done that.

They're doing much better than we are at the moment with a warm fire and plenty of food. What did you call that place we found? she asked.

Ostrog fort, I said.

A nice bit of luck to find that so near. Was that the prophecies? she asked.

No, I said.

The sound she made in her throat said she didn't believe me.

The prophecies had been rather quiet since the hut. I wasn't sure what that meant.

I'm tired, said Rowan, and I heard her roll over, away from me. And you need to trust me.

Trust. How could she even think that I could trust her after what happened before? She could easily work for Veles again. But that gave me an idea.

Rowan? I asked.

I heard a muffled response.

Can I hire you? I asked.

She shifted back over. Hire me for what?

To help, I said.

I’m already doing that, she replied.

No. I mean formally. A mercenary agreement, like you have with Veles, I said.

There was a long pause of silence, and not the good kind.

Is that all you think I am? she asked.

No, it’s just I was thinking that’s a way I could trust you. If we had an agreement, I said.

Do you have an agreement with all your friends? she asked bitterly.

I sighed. No, but...

Then why? she asked.

I want to trust you, but I’m finding it hard to, I said.

Trust or don’t trust. It’s all in our heads anyway. Why would a piece of paper change anything that words cannot do? I never lied to you before, and plan to keep it that way. I had no intention for you to be mixed up with the Gamayun, though you clearly don’t believe me. Good night, friend, she said, the final word dripping with sarcasm.

Rowan Blade rolled back over, and I silently shook my head. She was right. If we were going to work together, I was going to have to learn to trust her. But how could I take that chance with so much at stake?

Chapter Three

We traveled for three days in a southwestern direction, using the sun as our guide. I wondered at the magic of the shield that it allowed no one to travel through its barrier, but was almost invisible from inside, letting sunlight and wind pass. I suppose it had to be, or the people inside would starve when their crops died.

I detected no sullenness from our disagreement in the tent. Instead, Rowan spent the journey asking me about my life in Russia.

She stayed away from political questions, instead inquiring about my family, my travels across Europe, and my time at the Academy of Science. She took particular relish in my adventures with my son, Pavel, as we tried to pass as common travelers. A feat I was often ill suited for.

When she had exhausted her questions, I inquired about her, requesting a story from her life since I knew so little about her. We were crossing a flat plain between two ranges of hills, and the packed snow gave our boots a hard surface so the travel was easy.

Rowan walked for a few minutes. She wasn't an indecisive woman, as far as I knew. When she spoke at last, her gaze had that faraway quality of remembering the past.

I'm going to tell you about how I acquired my blood curse. I've never told anyone about this before. So forgive me if I struggle over some parts. You're the first.

The invisible weight on her shoulders seemed to get heavier, but Rowan took a deep breath and continued.

As you've guessed, I was not always a healer. I wasn't even a mercenary, or a traveler. I was none of these things yet. What I was, was the ruler of an entire universe. You might ask how such a thing was possible, but—she swept her hand above her head, indicating our world—"it wasn't as massive as yours. Yours is one of the largest universes in the multiverse. And not only that, it's a keystone that holds up the others. But I digress. My universe was small, but it was mine.

"I was an angry woman then. Mad that the universe had conspired to destroy me. That crucible of pain had created a different woman than you see now. They gave me names like 'the Terrible' or 'The Sorceress Queen of Angrular.' Names I earned and paid for, every one.

At the apex of my power, I found myself on a backwater planet, on my way to another place. I decided to take in the local culture. I don't know why, perhaps I was bored. I'd ruled for a long time. There was this village. A village of mud and bugs...

Her voice had grown quiet, trailed off to nothing. Her brow wrinkled.

Is something—

The words barely left my lips when the snow exploded around us. Figures with swords and spears leapt out of snow-covered holes.

Rowan mouthed the word No at me to remind me not to unleash my magic.

Male and female warriors wearing caribou furs surrounded us. They had smooth skin and tiny folds at the corners of their eyes, reminding me of the goddess Matka. In moments, our gloved hands were bound. They took our knives and pistols. The warrior who searched me barely glanced at the hilt of the oestium rapier, leaving it on my hip. A rope was strung between Rowan and me.

No one spoke to us. They talked amongst themselves in a language I recognized but did not understand. Russia was a polyglot country. In her day, Catherine had tried to employ speakers of the major languages in the capital, but often times, citizens from the far reaches of the empire arrived with no way to communicate with their empress.

I had no way of knowing what their intentions were. There were many tribes across Russia, each with their own code of ethics. Cannibalism was rare, but not unknown. I would risk magic if it came to that.

They led us across the snowy plain in an easterly direction towards a range of hills. The warrior leading us with the rope had a short bow hooked over his shoulder. His lips were stained black. While the others of the group gave us few glances, he barked at us, yanking on the rope when we couldn't keep up.

We marched for a few hours. The warriors constantly glanced towards the sky, which at first I thought was to gauge time, but then I realized they were checking for some potential danger.

To the south, the clouds were dumping snow. The gray wall stretched east and west. Part of me was glad not to be heading into that storm. It was partially sunny above us, and the heat from the sun, though faint, was enough to make the cold bearable.

Later that day, we stopped, crouching in the snow. I was tired from the hurried pace. My lips hurt from not being able to keep my face covering adjusted properly. I leaned against a clump of snow and enjoyed the respite.

A fierce-looking woman with steel blue eyes and twin scars across her cheek that looked as if a clawed hand had raked her face came over to give me water. It wasn't until she lifted her arms that I noticed the desiccated hand on a rope around her neck. The gray skin and