Curse of the Ice Dragon
From the bestselling paranormal author of The Whispers Series comes a new fantasy saga.
Born with mark of the Mighty Hunter, Markus saves his village from the brink of starvation — for whenever he releases an arrow, his aim is true. But despite his skill and strength, Markus is unable to confront his tyrannical father. Shamed by his cowardice, he distracts himself by needlessly shooting the forest creatures.
When Markus takes no heed of the village prophet’s warning that his actions will attract The Hunter’s Curse—for every animal Markus kills, his loved ones will suffer the same fate—the Sky Goddess unleashes her ice dragon. Now, Markus must flee the dragon without killing it … or his beloved brother will be the next to die.
Read on for an excerpt!
“Hey, ho!”
The voice startled him. Instinctively, he looked up while reaching for his boning knife. He swore under his breath. What good would a knife do him now he was cursed?
He breathed a sigh of relief as Zier, the dwarf trader, approached. A mountain of animal skins and other various goods dangled from a large pack atop his broad back. The stocky, red-bearded trader visited Markus’ village frequently during the warmer season, trading pelts and just about anything else for fruits and grains.
Markus wondered how he had failed to notice Zier’s approach earlier, and derided himself for losing focus once again.
“Put away your knife, boy hunter,” the man chuckled. He thumped his chest. “It is only Zier!”
Markus could not help but feel annoyance at Zier’s jubilant expression when his foot throbbed, and he was fatigued and famished. But the trader seemed oblivious to his suffering.
Reminding himself to reign in his temper, Markus fixed his gaze on Zier. “A hand up, please.”
Holding out his hand, Zier’s smile lit with amusement. “Twist your foot, son?”
“Aye,” Markus grumbled, pulling himself up.
Zier did not pull, yet Markus knew his movements were restricted by being laden with so many goods. Zier’s body always moved stiffly under so much weight, making him resemble an extension of his furs.
“These rocks can be tricky.” Zier nodded at the dark crack from which Markus had dislodged his foot. “Many do not see the ice until they are flat on their backsides or worse.”
“Aye,” Markus muttered again as he scowled down at the dwarf, afraid to say more lest he berate the trader for his indifference.
Zier fixed him with a quizzical stare. “Why so few words?”
Exhaling, Markus rubbed a shaky hand across his sweat-drenched brow. Until this moment, he had not realized how much his limbs shook, but he felt the tremors in the marrow of his bones. Throwing a glance behind him, he swore, seeing how quickly Lydra was bridging the gap between them. “I must make haste.”
“Why? What brings you so far this side of the mountain, boy?” As Zier spoke, his voice faltered as his gaze trailed to the spot where Markus had been staring. “Great Goddess!” he exclaimed. “What is that creature I see in the distance?”
“A dragon.” Markus sighed.
Zier’s eyes widened as he backed up with jerky movements, nearly stumbling on a rock behind him. “Let us move, boy. Methinks it pursues us.”
“Nay, trader, she pursues me.” Markus shook his head, still hardly believing his present fate. “I must be off.”
“What has happened?” Zier’s words rushed forth as if they were carried off by a great current of air. “Why does she pursue you?”
“Madhea’s curse of the ice dragon,” Markus groaned, feeling his insides churn as the truth of his plight settled in the pit of his stomach. “I’ve no time for more words.”
Shaking his head in frustration, Markus proceeded to limp toward the town of Kicelin, passing Zier who stood spellbound with one hand splayed across his chest.
Cursing under his breath, Markus bit back a sardonic laugh. He had thought to level his chances against the dragon by injuring its limb, but, once again, the monster was at an advantage.
“Do not tell me you go to Kicelin!” screamed Zier. “My daughters live there!” With quick movements, the trader had advanced upon Markus, grabbing hold of his elbow.
“I’ve no choice, trader!” Markus barked, while jerking his arm out of Zier’s grasp. “I need supplies if I am to reach Madhea at the peak. I must beg for her forgiveness. It is the only way.”
Feeling the strained crack in his voice, Markus broke off and lowered his head. His mind and soul were fraught with emotion, and he didn’t trust himself to say more. An overwhelming sense of despair hovered over him, threatening to swallow him whole.
Having had such a difficult time traversing the boulders at the base of the mountain, how would he cross the ice? How could he hope to conquer Ice Mountain? Visions of Alec alone in the hut, suffering starvation and sickness, filled his heart with dread as he choked back a lump of bitter bile.
He had to climb the mountain. He must not fail.
Glancing back at the dragon, he was relieved to see that the beast had stopped to nurse her injured wing. Dipping her extended jowls into the crook of it, she licked her injury like a feline cleansing her paw. The beast made an eerie sight. As she buried her face beneath the translucent flap, the crimson glow from her ominous eyes still shone through the curtain of icy membranes.
“What supplies do you need?” Zier had dropped his pack and was rummaging through a layer of furs. His face draped in a heavy scowl, he was scattering pots and hunting knives with erratic movements.
Markus had not realized the trader had acquired quite so many goods. “Ice picks and spikes for my shoes,” Markus blurted, while mentally trying to recount what he and his father had used the one time they’d gone climbing. He shivered beneath his buckskin cloak as a cold wind blew from the north. “And a fur would be nice.”
“Here! Take these and go!” said Zier, shoving an armful of supplies at Markus.
At that moment the ground shook and the dragon roared. The beast had slipped again.
“Shield yourself!” Markus yelled while pulling his sack over his head.
Zier ducked behind a large metallic disk. Alec had once told Markus about a great army from below that had passed through their mountain centuries ago. On their way to battle another army, they carried large, circular shields of metal, which they used to protect themselves from arrows. Markus thought such a disk could come in handy when being pelted with falling rocks.
The gravel hit them in a rush and there came the pinging sound of rocks deflecting off Zier’s shield. As soon as the rocks stopped falling, Markus began to shove the supplies into his pack. He looked over at Zier, who was hastily repacking his own goods.
“What was that disk you used to cover yourself?”
“Nothing,” Zier mumbled.
“Do not say nothing,” Markus snapped. “It resembled a shield.”
“Only a scrap of metal.” Zier shrugged, his eyes widening as he glanced past Markus.
Markus did not want to look. He knew by Zier’s expression that the dragon was advancing again.
“Then let me see it.” Unable to keep the tension from his voice, Markus held out his hand.
Zier’s features twisted as if his face was tying itself in a knot. “The shield is mine and not for trade.” Zier pulled the disk to his chest like a child defending a toy.
The fine details on the copper-colored plate did not escape Markus’ notice. It was etched with a strange looking, rotund fish, sprouting a stream of water. Markus knew the beautiful object was a prize to Zier, as it would be to any man, but he had greater need of it. If it could deflect rocks, mayhap it could deflect the dragon’s icy breath.
Zier carefully wrapped the shield in a large pelt and draped it over his back. His lip turned down in a pout. Then he raised his chin and shot Markus a challenging glare.
Markus nodded. “Mayhap the village has a shield?”
Zier’s entire face dropped. “No!” He scowled, and then swore, before slinging the disk off his back. “Here, take it!” he cried, shoving the shield toward Markus.
“Thank you, Zier.”
Taking the shield in his hands, Markus was surprised by the weight of it. For once, he was grateful at his advantage in size, for he had to hold the object with a heavy grip. “I shall return it to you when I’m finished.”
Zier’s face was ashen as he looked past Markus in the direction of the advancing dragon. “No! Stay away from Kicelin. I’ve heard tales of this curse. You will not bring Madhea’s wrath upon our village.”
Markus shook his head. Once he’d won Madhea’s forgiveness, all danger would be gone. “But I must repay you when I return.”
A deep, bitter laugh resonated from Zier’s heavy chest. Casting woeful eyes upon Markus, he reached up and squeezed his shoulder with a thick, stubby hand. “You shall not return, lad.”
Dropping his hand, the trader turned without another glance, hauling his heavy-laden body across the rocks with amazingly quick movements.
Markus’ heart seemed to plummet with Zier’s retreating steps. If it were not for the advance of the beast, he would have no more will to continue, but the ever looming threat of the dragon pushed him onward and upward.
What new threats lie in wait for him once he scaled the north face of Ice Mountain?
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