FOUR

OF The marked age

CHAPTER 1

*AGAIN*

Zooey.

The voice was faint at first. Reverberating through the West Castle halls. Slowly reaching her in a soft whisper.

Zooey.

It was closer this time and more distinct. She looked up into the darkness of the vast library. The room was still and untouched. The rows of books creating a tunnel. Obscuring her vision as she slowly moved forward. Toward the large glass window.

Zooey.

The voice was low, inviting. It was comforting as she passed The Great Gatsby, Slaughter-House Five, and One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest. Books that had sparked endless debates in the Caine house now sat idly on the shelves. Waiting to be thought of again.

Zooey.

She could see her father’s desk. Strewn with papers and maps, and old memories. The hand crank record player off to the side with one of her father’s Old World folk records spinning quietly on the turntable.

The stately chair sat behind the desk, turned toward the large glass window. Zooey stared at its finely crafted leather back as she moved forward.

Zooey.

The chair began to move, slowly at first. And she stood still. Watching it as it turned. Revealing ever so slightly the outline of a very distinct hand.

“Zooey!”

Zooey Caine awoke with a start. Pulled abruptly back into reality as she looked up into the striking blue eyes of her brother’s best friend.

“Wes!”

“Morning, Princess.”

She sat up quickly. Placing her hands on the sturdy cot for support as she looked around the room. Well, tent actually. Rooms were a luxury for fugitive types, and comfort was not high on R.A.T.’s priority list.

Zooey looked at Wes, who was wide-awake, completely dressed, and fastening his well-crafted armor around his waist. He finished by tightly securing his Spartan style sword to his side.

“Why are you dressed, Wes? We just went to bed, it’s not even night yet.”

“It is. You’ve been out all day. Which means we’re officially late.”

“Late?” Zooey inquired.

“Yes.” Wes looked at her questioningly. “For the raid?”

Zooey stared back blankly. “Oh, shit.”

“There we go.” Wes watched as Zooey flung the covers off the cot and scrambled haphazardly around the tent for her things.

“I can’t believe you forgot about the raid.”

“Not the time, Wes.” Zooey pulled on her pants and grabbed a shirt that was crumbled on a nearby stool.

“Well, it’s a pretty important thing to forget.” He grinned at her. That adorable half grin that always made it so incredibly difficult for her to be angry with him.

She sighed and finished pulling on her shirt. “Can you be useful and tell Ilya that I’m on my way?”

“No.”

“Wes!”

“Zooey, he’s a dragon. There’s a high chance he’ll set me on fire.”

“Fine.” Zooey braced herself against the cot and pulled on her right boot. “Can you let the others know, then?”

“All right, Princess. I’ll tell them.” But before he exited, he turned back once more to playfully smile at her. “But they won’t be surprised.”

She threw her left boot at him. “Go!”

As the flap of the tent closed and Zooey’s boot fell to the ground, she paused for a moment and sat at the edge of the cot. Taking in one deep breath.

There was a faint sting that shot up her arm, and she looked down at the Mark of the Twin. The off center two moons connected by their backs with an eight-point star set directly below them. Her distinct mark in this world, now tingling lightly on her right wrist.

Images flashed before her.

The sudden burning of her Twin Mark at The Rock prison in the West and the subsequent dreams that plagued her. Giving her hope that her brother Holden was alive. Setting her on a quest across the New World land of Nosto to save him, only to discover that it had been the past. And Holden was already dead. Killed and tortured by the tyrannical Aquas Tocque. But the worst offense of all was the knowledge that she had been betrayed. By her beloved brother Orson. One of the few family members that had survived Aquas Tocque’s Great Purge, and one she vowed would pay for his crimes.

Zooey quickly got up from the cot and walked over to her fallen left boot. She pulled it roughly onto her foot and then, with three quick strides, walked over to a small table that held the few personal possessions she had in this world.

Her deep blue dragon scale daggers were next to her copy of The Catcher in the Rye. The first, a present that her father, The King, had given to her on her sixteenth birthday, just weeks before Ilya chose her as his Twin. The second, a constant reminder of her brother, and the deep bond of her family, the Caines.

She began to fasten her black braided belt around her waist, then paused again, but only for a brief moment. Collecting her thoughts and memories. Pushing them far back into the depths of her mind.

Zooey grabbed her dragon scale daggers and, with a seasoned expertise, thrust them into place.

* PREPARING *

You’re late.

Ilya was regally waiting outside The War Room, R.A.T.’s largest tactical tent, for his overdue Twin.

The dragon was standing on his four scaled legs with his white wings outstretched to reach their full ten-foot wingspan. He stared at Zooey with his bright aqua eyes as muffled voices reached them from inside The War Room. Signaling that the final preparations were underway.

Was there a time frame, Ilya? Zooey retorted back telepathically as she walked up to her agitated Twin.

I can’t believe you forgot about the raid.

Did Wes tell you that?

I don’t need an imbecile with wind swept hair to tell me what I already know.

At this time, the aforementioned imbecile conveniently walked out of the tent to hand Zooey an armored riding saddle. A R.A.T. original that was developed specifically for the four dragons that helmed their rebel army.

“Jag wants each dragon to wear these.” Wes shot Ilya an apologetic look as he lifted the saddle onto his back, placing it in between the soft-feathered spikes that ran down the dragon’s head and tail. “We’ll be inside when you’re finished.”

Even though Ilya’s scales were harder than diamonds the saddle was an added precaution. As Wes walked back into The War Room, Zooey began to fasten her Twin with his new battle armor.

Ilya looked toward Wes, irritated. I should set him on fire.

You’re not going to make any friends with that attitude.

Friends are unnecessary.

You know people are afraid of you, right? Zooey finished buckling the last strap around Ilya’s wing.

Good.

Ilya’s aversion to anyone other than himself and his Twin was amplified underground. R.A.T., the “Rebels Against Tocque,” had created a compact city in the deep abandoned tunnels of the East Kingdom, but the center of the camp was said to be an old abandoned train station that had since been transformed for the tactical use of its new inhabitants.

This is insulting. I’m a dragon. A creature of extreme power, and you’re forcing me to wear a saddle like a common horse.

You don’t like the color?

Ilya scowled at her and rustled his wings in agitation. Your attitude astounds me.

“Glad to see you’re working on your mood swings.” Zooey scratched her Twin under his great white chin then gestured for him to follow her through the tent. “Let’s go.”

The inside of The War Room was massive. Housing custom dragon scale armor, expertly individualized weaponry, a large circular table in the center, and five intricate maps of each of Aquas Tocque’s northern war bases. Hanging from ceiling to floor, there was no mistaking their purpose.

The face of the rebellion, Jag Kassin, was standing at the head of the circular table pointing at the second map from the right. A thematic map that was labeled in bright red ink with two significant words: VALLEY FORGE.

“Aquas Tocque and his revolutionaries hold council in the North Kingdom. As you all are aware, there are five main war bases that he utilizes. Tocque himself is holding residence in the North Castle,” Jag continued, pointing to the map that hung directly to the left of VALLEY FORGE. Labeled in red as BUNKER HILL. “Here, he keeps his closest allies,” Jag stated. “Since we are focusing on one of his minor bases,” Jag continued, moving back to VALLEY FORGE. “Tocque and the more threatening members of his revolution should not be a problem. For now.”

Jag’s eyes lit up with a fervent passion. It was the same expressive light that Zooey had seen only once before, in the eyes of Mama Kass.

“We will gain control of the entire North, in time. But we have to be patient. Complete smaller missions so that when we execute our final attack, we will have the advantage. Aquas Tocque is a murderer, a tyrant. He has sent the Four Kingdoms, our home, into chaos. We will stop him, but it will take time.”

Jag Kassin was a true leader. A rebel that fought with valor in the name of justice. He was intelligent and fair and had an innate ability to band together the most unlikely allies.

To Jag’s right stood Eris, his Twin. A beautiful dragon with incandescent multi-colored scales and electric purple eyes. To Jag’s left sat his mother, the illustrious Mama Kass.

And if Jag was the face of the rebellion, Mama Kass was surely the heart of it.

“We will be focusing on Tocque’s Valley Forge base, loves,” Mama Kass declared as she stood from the table to stand confidently beside her son.

Jag smiled. “And the irony is certainly not lost on us.”

Jag then shot a pointed look to Lieutenant Alexander Carr, R.A.T.’s resident cartographer, who was instrumental in the creation of these helpful, albeit lethal, maps.

With the combination of Carr’s spatial skills, R.A.T.’s covert aerial missions, and some powerful added intelligence these maps were born. Almost complete mirrors of the war bases that littered the terrain of the North Kingdom. From left to right, and West to East, they hung: KEMPSVILLE, CAMDEN, BUNKER HILL, VALLEY FORGE, and BRANDYWINE.

Jag looked around the room at his rebel comrades. “Any concerns?”

“How many soldiers do we have to contend with?” asked a wild, bearded man.

“A few dozen more than the last raid, Mason,” Jag responded promptly.

“Perfect.” Mason Flint smiled, and turned to his lithe blue-eyed dragon, clapping him on his great emerald wing. “Think we can handle it, Alby?”

“Of course, we can,” a striking woman with long, straight black hair, responded in his place. “It’s nothing we haven’t faced before.”

Mai Li was Mason’s partner and the second rider for the dragon Alby. All three were fierce warriors that fought in the Great Purge and were paramount to Jag’s special operations team.

That’s who sat in The War Room now. D.O.T.S., the “Dragons of Tactical Significance,” that Jag had assembled for covert missions into the North Kingdom. The raids that needed rebels of the winged kind who could fly unnoticed and kill if needed.

“Any further questions?” Jag asked again, looking around the room. “If you have a problem, speak up now. The sooner we fly out the better for us all.”

“What if I can’t control him?” Logan Trask, a Man of the North Keep, shakily asked. Logan was sitting next to a frightfully large, carmine scaled dragon with golden eyes that looked furious to be in the presence of such ineptitude. Vesuvius was a dragon of action and didn’t take kindly to unnecessary delays.

“He’s a rogue,” Mason exclaimed. “You’ll never be able to control him.”

Mai shot her partner a warning look. “Vesuvius is a fine dragon. His Twin fought with us in The Purge. It will get easier in time.”

Logan looked nervously to Jag. “Last time he deliberately flung me into a tree.”

Mama Kass looked at him encouragingly. “It wasn’t that high, love.”

“And you’ll have Lieutenant Carr as your second,” Jag continued. “Like Mai said, give it time.”

“I have a question!” Zooey shot her hand in the air. “What exactly are we looking for?”

Everyone in The War Room, including the dragons, turned their attention to her.

“I mean, I like a good raid as much as the next rebel,” she offered with a light laugh. “But it’s kind of important to know what we’re looking for if, say, we want to find it.”

The room went silent, and Zooey looked to her Twin for support.

And you’re worried I’m not going to make friends?

Mama Kass was the first to address her inquiry. “An excellent question, love. We are looking for a very important asset.”

“What sort of asset?” Zooey continued.

“An asset that’s integral to R.A.T.’s success,” Jag answered.

“But why?” Zooey continued. “What sort of asset is this?”

Jag looked at her and smiled. His usual smile that was thoughtful but unyielding. “That’s irrelevant.”

“Well,” Zooey pressed on. “When will it become relevant?”

“In time,” Jag responded.

Zooey sighed. In her few months at R.A.T. she had learned that although truly competent leaders ran the rebellion, they never divulged all the information they knew. Which made it increasingly difficult for Zooey—in light of her apparent trust issues.

“Fine,” Zooey conceded then grinned at Jag. “But you owe me.”

Jag nodded with a slight smile. “I’ll add it to the list.”

He turned to his Twin, Eris, and Mama Kass who responded with subsequent nods of agreement. “Let’s fly out.”

Jag began walking toward the opening of the tent as everyone followed in line behind him. Ilya, Zooey, and Wes were the last to exit.

Before Zooey stepped out of the tent, Wes grabbed her arm and gently pulled her around to face him. “Do you think they’re ever going to tell us the whole story?”

“I wouldn’t count on it.”

Wes stared down at Zooey pointedly. “It seemed easier when it was just the four of us.”

“I know.”

* THE RAID *

VALLEY FORGE: Aquas Tocque’s fourth war base was situated in a remote part of the North Kingdom. This was considered a minor base by Tocque’s standards, which meant that the protection around the camp was effective but sparse.

Flying by dragon meant that Jag’s D.O.T.S. team was able to reach their destination just as dawn broke. It was imperative to fly shrouded by the night sky. To their knowledge, Aquas Tocque’s Twin Mandate was still in effect, and the Dragon Hunters that roamed Nosto were still thirsting for blood and petty cash.

Reaching their destination as dawn approached forced D.O.T.S. into hiding at a safe but relative distance. Most importantly in an isolated location. There, they would stay low in the daylight. When night blanketed the sky once again the raid would begin. Quick and efficient was Jag’s command. If they were successful, and alive, they would then return to the East.

D.O.T.S. had been waiting, patiently, as the day turned. The team landed together on a soft patch of land a few miles south of the base. There, they prepared. Making sure they were mentally and physically ready for the upcoming raid. Each individual, human and dragon, knew their role. They had clear orders.

Jag was very conscious of the fact that the dragons in their group held the ultimate power, and because of this each team was assigned according to the dragon they rode.

Team Alby, with Mason as the first rider and Mai as the second, was typically in charge of the diversion. Their skills at subterfuge and instigation served them miraculously well during the Great Purge, so they were always the first to fly out.

Following them would be Team Vesuvius, with Logan as the first rider and Lieutenant Carr as the second. Since Vesuvius was a Rogue Dragon and highly unpredictable, they were tasked with remaining in the air and providing aid if necessary.

Next was Team Eris, with Jag as the first rider and Mama Kass as the second. All three of them steadfast leaders that never once hesitated to steer their team boldly into the heart of battle.

Last was Team Ilya, with Zooey as the first rider and Wes as the second. The addition of Team Ilya was the wartime advantage Jag Kassin had been waiting for. The day that Zooey arrived at the underground East Kingdom camp was the day R.A.T. knew they had a chance at victory.

As twilight settled and the last suggestion of sun faded from sight, Jag signaled that it was time for D.O.T.S. to fly out.

But before they did, Jag turned to them all one last time. Imparting a final phrase to bind his team in solidarity.

“We stand.”

With that, the dragons and their riders lifted from the ground and rose into the air, flying with heightened speed toward the base.

Zooey rode on Ilya’s back, feeling Wes’ arms wrapped tightly around her waist as they ebbed and flowed with the dragon’s wings. The wind blew cold against their faces and they sped forward, advancing on the base, shrouded by the night’s sky.

Flying in front of them, Alby broke his pattern and abruptly made a dive down toward the front of the base. Tocque’s revolutionaries were visibly caught off guard as the dragon singed their tents and sent the base into a fiery mass panic. 

This was their moment. Vesuvius rapidly broke off from his pattern and flew upwards. Hovering in the dark sky above the base, Eris and Ilya made a sharp dive down as Alby had done before. But instead of veering to the side they kept their focus on the middle of Tocque’s base. 

Flying close to the ground they expertly moved in and out of the tents that were lined in rows. Setting the entire base ablaze as they flew fluidly through the chaos.

Then abruptly, Eris stopped. Landing in front of a large white tent that was heavily guarded with an array of Tocque’s revolutionaries. This action forced Ilya to halt abruptly, and land next to Eris by default.

Quickly, Jag and Mama Kass dismounted off of Eris with purpose and proceeded toward the tent. Disarming and killing any inept revolutionary that came into their path.

Zooey dismounted off Ilya’s back, taking in the cascade of enemies that were advancing upon her. “Why did we stop?”

Mama Kass turned back to her and smiled. “Watch your back, love.” She stabbed a man in the gut without a single look then continued after Jag through the onslaught of enemies.

“Perfect,” Zooey stated under her breath as Jag and Mama Kass disappeared into the depths of the tent.

A very painful force hit Zooey from behind, and she crumpled to the ground.

It only took her a few seconds to recover. Zooey grabbed her daggers from their sheaths, stood up from the ground, and turned to deftly slice her attacker’s throat.

She looked to Wes and Ilya. “You all right?”

Ilya was taking out his irritation at the abrupt landing on Tocque’s revolutionaries. In record time he had compiled a mangled mound of man and armor in front of him.

Zooey smiled at her Twin. “You’re fine!”

A surge of fire erupted from the enraged dragon, singing an advancing attacker.

Wes was brandishing his Spartan style sword, but since it only seemed to be slowing him down, he thrust it back in its sheath. Now he utilized his expert Keep training by taking on his enemies with only his sheer strength and bare hands.

An enthusiastic and slightly crazed attacker began to barrel toward Zooey with heightened speed. His wartime scream was fairly annoying and Zooey sighed heavily as she bent down to the ground and sliced his legs mid run, halting his poor assassination attempt.

As Zooey turned just in time to stab an attacker in the neck, Wes yelled, “Is it just me or does this seem excessive?”

“Must be one hell of an asset,” Zooey answered back, elbowing another attacker in the ribs then circling around to stab him in the general area of his spleen.

“They better hurry,” Zooey stated, beginning to notice the growing flames around her. “If I’m going to burn to death, it’s not going to be here.”

The combination of Alby and the other dragons’ fire had set off a cataclysmic chain of events. Everywhere they looked surging flames were growing around them.

Ilya let out an aggravated roar, and Zooey quickly turned around to see one of Tocque’s men hanging off his wing, with a knife buried deep in between two of his scales.

Zooey started toward him, but Wes reached the scene before her. He swiftly pulled the attacker off Ilya and punched him in the face. And a punch from a Man of the Keep was not something he’d likely recover from.

As Wes pulled the knife out of Ilya’s scale, the dragon looked at him. A small glimpse of appreciation overtaking his typically taciturn gaze.

Mama Kass and Jag burst from the tent. The flames now reaching an unmanageable point, signaling the desperate need to evacuate.

As the four of them clambered onto the backs of their dragons, Zooey caught sight of the reason for this dangerous, life-threatening mission. A book. A very old, tattered book. That was now secured tightly under Mama Kass’ arm.

“You can’t be serious?” Zooey exclaimed. “All of this for a damn book?”

“This is not just any book.”

Mama Kass flashed her the cover. An intricate design that included every unique mark that represented the four magical entities of Nosto. The Twin, The Keep, The Element Sorcerer, and The Historian.

“This is The Book of Four, Ms. Caine,” Mama Kass stated. “This was what Holden was working on.”

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