Golden Age (The Shifting Tides, #1)

Solon saw the crimson-cloaked soldiers now had the numbers to attack. The big black-bearded commander stood just below the wall, his men ranked behind him, standing shield to shield. He held his sword in the air, then waved his men forward.

The biremes were moving off the shore as the sailors and soldiers got them moving. Once away from shore, those on board would be safe.

Solon met Triton’s eyes. He nodded.

‘Take me to it,’ he said.

Triton smiled.

Clouds of gray smoke gathered around the eldran until his body was completely obscured. The smoke elongated and thickened, becoming dense and massive as Solon stood back.

The mist shimmered.

Triton was suddenly gone, and a monstrous one-eyed dragon now stood in his place. The dragon dipped a leg, and Solon knew what he was supposed to do. He clambered onto its back, gripping the scaly, leathery flesh just behind its forelegs with his knees and leaning forward to hold the protuberances behind its head.

With a surge of terrifying power, the wings lifted and descended, propelling them up into the sky.

Solon felt his spirits soar, as if he were suddenly released of a terrible burden. He no longer cared about Triton’s plans: as long as he could bring about his successful entrance to the homeland of the gods, it no longer mattered what transpired in this mortal world. He would be the sun king no more; he would become more than a man.

After death, he would be a god.

The dragon’s wings, each as big as a bireme’s sail, flapped steadily, thrusting at the air as it flew high into the sky. The incredible perspective revealed the ships of Solon’s fleet drawing away from the shore and clusters of fighting men on the embankment and the beach. The occasional soldier stared up at him with horror combined with fear, and Solon smiled as Triton took him above the temple, giving him a direct view of the summit. He saw the columns framing the golden ark in the center. Behind the Ark of Revelation, the eternal flame burned brightly on its pedestal.

The dragon and its rider plummeted down to the plateau.

Landing lightly on the cliff edge, the winged reptile came to a rest and Solon slipped off its back. A sudden spike of pain speared his chest, but he pushed it aside with an iron will. At such a height, gusting winds buffeted his body, slowing his steps as he walked toward the golden ark.

‘You will find a horn within,’ a voice behind him said. Glancing over his shoulder, Solon saw Triton had shifted back to his usual form. The eldran stood impatiently with legs astride, his brow furrowed as his expression urged Solon to haste, although he was evidently reluctant to approach the chest of gold himself.

‘Give me what is inside,’ Triton said, ‘and you will triumph.’

Solon continued his approach to the ark. He saw fanciful designs in the gold. It was even larger than it appeared from below; he knew it would give him everything he needed and more. He inspected the lid. It was much smaller than the ark itself, embedded in the very center, just a couple of feet to a side. A long handle ran horizontally across it.

Something glittered out of the corner of Solon’s eye. It was at the corner of his vision but startling enough to make him turn as he frowned.

He saw a young woman with long dark hair step out from behind a column. She carried a shining steel sword, holding it by the hilt in both hands. The sparkle of the afternoon sun on the blade had alerted him to her approach.

She had thought to surprise him, but the sun god Helios had warned him of her presence and she was unable to make her hidden strike. When he recognized her, Solon gave a dry chuckle.

‘I remember you, girl,’ he said. He waved a hand dismissively. ‘Now get out of my way.’

‘No,’ said Chloe. She continued to approach him with the tip of her weapon slightly raised. ‘I won’t.’

Solon was unarmed, but he was unperturbed. He turned completely so that his back was to the ark, raising his voice as he called out to the one-eyed eldran king.

‘Triton,’ he said. He nodded in Chloe’s direction. ‘You know what to do.’





60


The battle was won. Dion felt the tension in his shoulders slowly relax as his countrymen cleared the agora, pushing the Ileans all the way to the embankment and finally forcing them to flee the shore.

Nikolas was at the forefront, baying for the sun king’s blood as he led his men down the narrow steps to the harbor. Dion’s brother had come. Phalesia had survived.

Chloe was safe.

From his vantage Dion could see the tall man with the spiked crown standing near the warship and the tall scar-faced eldran at his side. The sun king would flee. He would be forced to return to Lamara without his prize. Sweeping his gaze over the agora, Dion saw too many bodies to count, a gruesome sight worse than any slaughterhouse.

But when Dion looked back to the harbor he felt the blood drain from his face. His eyes went wide with horror.

He saw the one-eyed dragon and the sun king rise from the shore.