Free Return of the Dragon (The Dragon's Champion Book 6) by Sam Ferguson Page B

out the voices.
    They would not be silenced.
    Right or wrong, Erik’s war had brought death. The
images and faces of those he had known assaulted his mind until he was lying on
his side on the glass floor, crying and shouting for the images to go away and
leave him alone.
    “Erik, why are you crying?” a voice called out.
    Erik barely heard it. The screams of horror and pain
were so loud he could focus on nothing else.
    “Erik, I am here,” a voice beckoned.
    The voice was much louder this time, pushing the
screams away. Erik turned and looked. He saw his father, Trenton Lokton,
standing in the doorway. He was wearing his striped pajamas underneath his
green and gold robe, and held a steaming mug in one hand and a pair of oranges
nestled in his other palm. Erik wiped his eyes and blinked. The glass room
melted away and in its place he saw his own room. He looked down and saw that
he was on his bed, wearing pajamas and the sun was pouring in from his bedroom
window.
    “I thought you might want to follow me to the
solarium,” Lord Lokton said as he tossed an orange to Erik. “Perhaps we can
discuss what happened yesterday.”
    Yesterday? Erik wondered to himself. He looked down and saw that
his hands were bandaged. He flexed his fingers and felt the sting where the
blisters and lesions had formed and then he remembered. The
pull ups. Master Lepkin had ordered an impossible amount of pull ups to
be done as punishment for breaking into Dimwater’s tower.
    Dimwater’s tower! That was it. That was why Lord Lokton wanted to talk with him. Erik’s
stomach turned. He knew this was not going to be a pleasant conversation to
have.
    Lord Lokton stopped in the doorway. He turned and the
oranges fell from his hand as he clutched at his stomach.
    Erik froze when he saw the dagger embedded up to the
hilt in his father’s gut. Blood oozed out and spread through the pajamas around
the dagger. Lord Lokton’s eyes went wide and his mouth quivered. “What have you
done?” he asked.
    “I didn’t—” Erik started but then his father fell to
the floor and a man stood behind him cackling wildly.
    The man wore black robes with shiny, purple trim on
the sleeves. A long hood hung loosely over his face, covering his features.
Strands of silver hair poked out from the hood like old, wispy snakes. A golden
medallion in the shape of a triangle enclosing an open eye hung over the man’s
chest. The man held a long staff of wood in his left hand and pointed at Erik.
    “I warned you. I warned you all. I said that you would
destroy House Lokton. Your power is a dangerous one. I told you that the power
would consume all living. Yet still you persist. Your father is dead, your house is in ruin. The Middle Kingdom is at war,
and you still press forward. Can you not see that it is you who
must be stopped?”
    Erik fell back to sit on the bed, but he crashed to
the glass floor.
    The room transformed back to the empty, cold cell of
glass.
    “Tukai was right,” Erik muttered. “I may not have
killed my father, but I am the one who set him on his path. If not for me,
Lokton Manor would still stand.”
    “Hogwash and horse-apples,” a familiar, nasal voice
called out from behind him. Erik jumped and spun around. No one was there.
    “Who is there?” Erik asked, almost afraid to see who
was visiting him now.
    A hand materialized in the air holding a pair of
gold-rimmed glasses.
    “If only you hadn’t left these, they could help you
see the truth of it.”
    Erik recognized the voice now. It was Tatev. Just as
he started to say something the hand vanished, and the Eyes of Dowr along with
it.
    “It’s cold here, Erik. Why is it so cold?”
    “NO!” Erik shouted. His eyes opened and he slowly
understood that he had been dreaming all along. He was still lying upon the
floor. His tears had formed a small puddle next to his face. He turned around
to look at the door. It was still closed, as it had been after he entered the
room. His father was no