THE DRAGON'S RETURN

The Shattered Rift

The sky above the canyon split like a rotten melon, spilling a thick, purple cloud into the air.

Thorn wiped cold sweat from his forehead. His fingers were stiff. He looked down at his palms and saw dark, stone-like veins crawling under his skin. The relic in his chest pulsed hard, making his teeth rattle.

"You really messed up this time, boy," a voice rasped from the shadows of the rocks.

Thorn did not turn around. He kept his eyes on the widening tear in the air. "Get out here, Lyra. I know you are watching."

A thin silver light slithered out from a crack in the rock wall and took the shape of a pale woman. Her outline flickered like a dying candle flame.

"Look at that sky," Lyra said, leaning against a boulder. She pointed up with a crooked finger. "You broke the law of weight, you erased direction, and you melted a sect elder. The world cannot hold itself together when you keep tearing out its seams."

"I am still alive," Thorn said. "That is all that matters."

"For now," she replied. "But look at your hands. The Primordial is taking its tax. How much of your blood is still blood?"

"Enough to kill you if you try anything," Thorn said, his tone flat.

A loud groan echoed from the purple cloud. The trees at the edge of the canyon began to bend sideways, pulled by a wind that blew from nowhere. Huge rocks lifted off the ground and floated toward the tear.

"What is coming through?" Thorn asked, gripping his blade.

"An old ghost," Lyra said. Her voice dropped to a low whisper. "A piece of a world that died a thousand years ago. When you break reality here, the old dead places bleed back in."

A sharp, metallic voice rang out from the middle of the purple fog. "Is that you, little prince?"

Thorn froze. His heart hammered against his ribs. He knew that voice. He had heard it six years ago when his family's palace was put to the torch.

"Commander Varek," Thorn muttered.

"He recognized you," Lyra chuckled, though her eyes were wide with genuine concern. "That is bad news for us. He was a monster when he was alive."

A tall man stepped out of the rift. His body was made of twisted copper and dark glass, but his face was unmistakable. He had the same cruel blue eyes and the same long scar across his chin. He carried a heavy iron mace that dragged on the floating stones.

"Thorn Blackthorn," Varek said, laughing loudly. The sound was like two dry stones rubbing together. "The rat who ran away. Look at you, standing in dirt, smelling like burnt magic."

"You should have stayed dead, Varek," Thorn said. He took three steps back, adjusting his stance.

"The gods do not let heavy debts go unpaid," Varek said. He raised the iron mace. "They gave me a second breath just to finish the job I started in the capital. Hand over the stone in your chest, and I will make your death fast."

"I do not give gifts to dead men," Thorn said.

"Always arrogant," Varek growled. He lunged forward.

The copper giant moved faster than a human could track. The heavy mace cut through the air, heading straight for Thorn's head.

Thorn did not try to block it. He ducked under the swing and slapped his palm against Varek's chest plate. He pushed his power forward, focusing on the metal.

"Unmake," Thorn barked.

The copper plate beneath his palm turned into red sand and blew away in the wind. Varek stumbled back, looking down at his exposed chest in total surprise.

"What kind of trick is this?" Varek roared.

"It is not a trick," Thorn said, darting in again. "It is the end of your new life."

"Watch out!" Lyra yelled from the rock ledge. "He is not alone!"

Two more figures dropped out of the purple sky. They wore the gray robes of imperial enforcers, but their faces were featureless white masks. They moved in perfect silence, pulling long bronze chains from their sleeves.

"Take his legs!" one masked man shouted.

"Hold the ghost woman too!" the second one called out.

The chains whipped through the air, wrapping around Thorn's left ankle. The cold metal bit deep into his flesh. The men pulled hard, dragging Thorn across the rocky dirt.

"Lyra!" Thorn yelled, struggling to find his footing.

"I am a spirit, remember?" Lyra called back, hiding behind a giant boulder. "I cannot pull heavy chains for you! Use the relic!"

Thorn grabbed the bronze chain with both hands. He did not aim for the metal itself. He aimed for the concept of hold. He willed the grip of the chain to vanish.

Instantly, the metal link in his hands lost all shape. It turned into a pool of gray water that splashed uselessly onto the dirt. The two masked enforcers stumbled backward, losing their balance.

Thorn sprang up instantly. He rushed the nearest enforcer and grabbed the man by the throat.

"Please," the masked man choked out.

"Wrong word," Thorn said.

He drove his energy straight into the man's throat. The mask dissolved, followed immediately by the skin beneath it. The enforcer collapsed into a pile of gray dust before he hit the ground.

"You monster!" the second enforcer screamed, dropping his chain and backing away toward the purple tear.

Varek stepped between them, his heavy boots shaking the ground. "Stand your ground, fool! He is just one boy! His body is breaking down!"

Thorn wiped dark, thick fluid from his nose. His vision was blurring around the edges. Every time he used the power, his stomach felt like it was filling with lead.

"He is right, boy," Lyra shouted from her hiding place. "Your skin is turning completely gray! Stop using it or you will turn into a statue!"

"If I stop, he kills me," Thorn gritted out.

"Let us make a deal," Varek said, swinging his mace in small circles. "Give me the stone. I will leave the spirit woman alone, and I will let you have a proper grave."

"I have a better plan," Thorn said.

"What plan?" Varek asked, raising his weapon high.

Thorn looked up at the massive purple tear hanging above them. The fracture was holding itself open by the force of two different worlds pulling on each other.

"I am going to unmake the gap," Thorn said.

Lyra shrieked. "Are you insane? If you close it from the bottom, the pressure will blow this whole canyon into dust!"

"Then we had better run fast," Thorn said.

He slammed both hands into the ground beneath his feet. He did not target Varek. He did not target the remaining enforcer. He targeted the gravity holding the rift in place.

"Stop him!" Varek yelled, leaping forward with his mace.

It was too late. The purple cloud turned bright white. The air made a sound like a giant piece of canvas ripping in half. The giant floating rocks crashed back down to the earth all at once, crushing the remaining masked enforcer instantly.

The purple tear collapsed inward, turning into a ball of pure, blinding light. The pull was immense. Varek screamed as his heavy copper body was sucked backward toward the center of the ball.

"Thorn!" Varek raged, reaching out with one giant metal arm. "I will find you again! The gods will never stop hunting you!"

"Tell them to send someone stronger next time," Thorn said.

The ball of light snapped shut with a deafening boom. The shockwave blasted through the canyon, throwing Thorn off his feet and slamming him hard into the stone wall.

Silence fell over the canyon. The sky was blue again, but the ground was ruined. Giant trenches crossed the dirt, and the air smelled like ozone and burnt hair.

Thorn lay in the dirt, breathing heavily. He tried to lift his left arm, but it felt heavy as iron. He looked down and saw his hand was now completely stone-gray from the wrist to the fingertips.

Lyra floated over to him, her glowing shape looking thin and weak.

"You survived," she said quietly.

"I told you I would," Thorn wheezed, pushing himself up against the wall.

"Look at your arm, Thorn," she said, her voice serious for once. "You cannot keep doing this. Two more fights like that, and you will be nothing but a living statue."

Thorn looked at his gray hand. He flexed his fingers. They made a dry, clicking sound, but they still moved.

"It works," Thorn said. "That is all that matters."

"Where do we go now?" Lyra asked, looking around at the ruined landscape. "The imperial court knows you are alive. The sects know you are here. Every hunter in the eastern lands will be on your trail by sunset."

Thorn stood up slowly, leaning on his iron sword. He looked toward the snow-capped mountains in the far distance.

"We go to the capital," Thorn said.

Lyra stared at him in disbelief. "The capital? That is where all your enemies live!"

"Exactly," Thorn said, a cold smile touching his lips. "They will never expect me to walk straight into their home."

He took his first step forward, his stone fingers gripping his sword hilt so hard the leather cracked.

A low, booming bell sounded from the top of the distant mountains, echoing across the land seven times.

Lyra froze. "That is the Divine Bell. They know."

Thorn did not stop walking. "Let them ring it."