The Dragon Gate (The Dragon Gate Series Book 1)

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The Dragon Gate (The Dragon Gate Series Book 1) Page 23

by Randy Ellefson


  Ryan hadn’t realized she had a preference but wasn’t surprised. He responded warmly and genuinely. “I can assure you I made every attempt to spare the dragon’s life and avoid her death. It was very regrettable.”

  The look she gave him made it clear she didn’t believe a word of it, her knuckles white from clenching the arms of the chair. “What happened when you sealed the gate?”

  Matt responded, “Very little. No dragons were pulled into it, so Nir’lion was the only one here.”

  The queen nodded. “But you’re certain the gate is now closed?”

  “Yes.”

  One hand on his big belly, Sonneri asked, “What did you learn about who opened the gate?”

  Ryan replied, “We believe that a wizard named Raith opened it. He is the one who stole the scroll and learned its contents, which gave him motive.”

  Queen Lorella asked, “What motive is that? I thought simply freeing the dragons was the reason.”

  Realizing his mistake, Ryan admitted, “Yes, it was, since Raith was a Dragon Cult member, but in reading the scroll he discovered the existence of soclarin ore on the world where the dragons are imprisoned.”

  Seeming satisfied, she asked, “Will this wizard be able to open the gate again?”

  “No,” Matt answered. “He was present during the battle and stepped through the gate before we shut it. He is now trapped on the other side.”

  With arched eyebrows, the queen considered that in silence.

  The next morning, the champions made their final preparations for leaving, saying goodbye to Lorian. Word of their success had spread so that those armies threatening war against Kingdom Alunia had stood down. Castle Darlonon and the forest had been cleared out by the elves and Alunia’s forces. Everything was returning to normal here and they hoped their own lives were next on the list. They suspected they’d been reported missing.

  It was standing room only as they ascended the steps to the dais and turned to face those they’d saved from destruction. As before, only the rich and privileged attended, but many more such people gathered now. The queen bade them farewell with a last speech, and in the applause that followed, Sonneri cast a stern look at the crowd to be quiet. Turning to the book before him on a podium, he began to speak so quietly none could hear, but Matt tried to read his lips, another skill he’d picked up for his deaf mother because she often read his. He tried to memorize the words and gestures, realizing he’d lost the opportunity to learn that spell and should’ve thought of that, but hopefully he’d never need it.

  The stone pillars around them began to glow with words of blue fire, the decorative markings on the floor turning white beneath their feet. Soliander’s staff sent a continuous pulse up Matt’s arm, letting him know magic was afoot, and the wizard knew he’d miss the power he’d come to wield here. Of the four, he’d done the most amazing things and would return to a life far more ordinary, and only his eyes were sad as the pillars burst into flames with a loud whoosh and the room around them disappeared.

  Chapter 17 – Resolutions

  Jack Riley stood just inside the door of Anna’s condo in Gaithersburg Maryland, not sure where to begin but sure he didn’t want to start at all. No friend would want the task before him and it felt premature. It certainly didn’t offer hope. Packing Anna’s things as if she was never returning just felt wrong. He wasn’t ready to let go and didn’t understand her father’s decision. Maybe he just wanted some action to break the frustration of getting no answers, no resolution, nothing to change, even if this particular action suggested an abandonment of hope. The weeks of waiting and wondering were unpleasant, certainly, but this wasn’t the way to go. What would Anna say if she returned? You waited just weeks before deciding I was gone forever? Gee, thanks.

  He smiled at the thought. They went back a long way – he and Matt, too – growing up in the same neighborhood. Unlike with many friendships, time had not forced them apart, and while he wasn’t part of the foursome, he certainly knew the others, too. It was hard to know one but not all, they did so much together, but Jack had a life elsewhere. A less secure guy might have felt he was a fifth wheel with all the inside jokes and you-had-to-be-there references, but he was fine with that. They had shared adventures with him as well, but for weeks he’d been wondering if they were now sharing some nightmare instead.

  More than two weeks had passed since Anna Lynn Sumner, Eric Foster, Matt Sorenson, and Ryan LaRue had disappeared in England, their van found abandoned by the side of the road. A motive for their return to the monoliths after hours remained unknown. No security cameras existed at Stonehenge and the British authorities had found little to help their investigation. No witnesses or signs of foul play turned up and the volume of footprints nearby eliminated any signs of theirs. Only the digital camera found in the car, with its few pictures of the happy friends in their last moments, proved they had really been here, but they shed no light on the situation. The best guess – and that was all they had – was that they had been abducted and taken away in another car.

  A ransom had first been suspected, with the wealthy Ryan the target and the others just bystanders, but one never appeared. Nor had any bodies, thankfully. No terrorist organization or anti-American group had claimed responsibility, and no signs of mental instability or unhappiness existed among the four. There had been nothing to go on and nothing had changed since finding the abandoned SUV.

  The mystery had captured not only England’s imagination, but the world’s, due in no small part to Ryan’s family. The considerable wealth of the LaRue estate had been brought to bear on the investigation and broadcasting of each police report, but it had aided them little. Scores of press conferences and both television and radio appeals had resulted in only false leads. The offered reward money had simply swamped the resources available to handle those leads. Daniel had personally appeared on TV to appeal for help, remarking on how much his brother looked after him and would never disappear this way. That situation had added to the world’s sympathy that yet another tragedy of some kind had befallen the family.

  Candlelight vigils had been held both in England and the United States with speeches by friends and tearful pleas from parents. A prime time TV special had even detailed their lives, disappearance, media storm, and the international investigation, with the typical stock footage of friends in happier times and how bright their futures were – or had been. The four lost friends had become famous for the wrong reason, and if they were ever to turn up alive, a worldwide media storm would greet them, questions flying. Everyone wanted answers, but those closest to them really just wanted them back.

  With the apparent exception of Anna’s father, thought Jack.

  He stepped further into the condo, seeing the cats come out from hiding in expectation of food. He’d been taking care of them and was supposed to take them home soon, once he cleared out the place. Anna’s father hadn’t put it on the market yet, but it couldn’t be far off. It seemed he wanted to put the whole mess behind him and move on. Still feeling like this was a terrible mistake, Jack picked up a cat and headed for the kitchen. He would start tomorrow.

  Autumn leaves rustled under the horse’s hooves as the elf cantered along the road from Olliana. After much toil and danger, he rode with less alertness than usual, for there was little to worry about so close to the city. He needed to relax anyway after all the recent fighting and stress. It was why he’d freed the other elves with him to stay or go on alone, for he wanted some time to himself. He breathed in the fresh air and scents of the forest as he entered a wooded stretch of road. It reminded Lorian of home, his destination.

  He could enjoy the comforts of Arundell for the first time in months, a crate of rare wine waiting for such an august occasion as the second banishment of the dragons and, even better, the death of Nir’lion. While elves valued life, some lives were bent on the destruction of all others and were best extinguished for the greater good. She wouldn’t be causing such trouble again even on the
uninhabited Soclarin, a thought which reminded him of the ore.

  It was just as well that the gate had been sealed and that ore locked away. The ore was a dangerous thing for anyone to learn the existence of, and it pleased him that Queen Lorella, her Prime Minister, and Sonneri had agreed to destroy the scroll copy. No one else would learn its contents, and it could be safely forgotten. Hopefully Soliander would never open the gate again, or if he did, the new champions could lock it swiftly next time. They had done very well, very well indeed.

  Thoughts of Soliander troubled him. The wizard he’d known would never have let the dragons loose to cause such damage or been so careless about leaving the gate unguarded. Where he had gone to and what he’d been doing all this time troubled Lorian as much as the attempts on both his and Matt’s lives. It raised fears about what had become of the real Andier, Eriana, and Korrin. Something told him the wizard had something to do with their disappearance and he rode along thinking of every detail he could remember from their time together, looking for clues into this destructive behavior. Lost in thought, he never saw the net falling until it was too late. It swept him from the horse’s back to the ground, where someone delivered a blow that knocked him out.

  Queen Lorella strode into her private chambers, leaving her guards outside and breathing a sigh of relief that this whole affair with the Ellorians was over, at least publicly. There were reconciliation meetings to occur between kingdoms via messengers and other intermediaries, but she’d leave those details to others as befitting a ruler of her stature. Now the armies threatening war had backed down, their warriors going back to their regular lives, unmindful of any danger that might turn up in the next days. Everyone’s guard would drop and no one would think to watch the skies any longer.

  She smiled. This was perfect, even better than she had planned. For a time, there she’d been rather angry, and more importantly, at a loss for how to salvage the situation. Then the champions had come against all odds and a new plan was born, one that left Honyn even more unsuspecting than before. It had unfortunately cost the life of the same foolish dragon that had caused the problem by being spotted, and there would be a hefty price to pay for her death, but in the end, disaster had not only been averted but turned to her advantage.

  She turned to a map of Honyn on a table, eyeing the nearby kingdoms and recalling what Olliana’s generals had told her about troop movements and battle tactics in the event a dragon horde emerged from the gate. No one had been willing to share plans due to suspicion about which kingdom’s wizard had unleashed them, but knowing they wouldn’t cooperate with each other was worth knowing, too. The fools didn’t deserve the peace they now enjoyed, but sometimes fools got what they deserved. Their lack of loyalty to each other and to the kingdom that had now twice saved them would cost them.

  A sound behind her indicated someone had entered through the secret entrance and now waited quietly, obediently, like a respectful servant should. Unlike some, she commanded authority and didn’t tolerate abuses to respect, though one had disobeyed her recently and caused no end of trouble.

  Irritated by the memory, the queen asked sharply, “Have you received word from the castle?”

  “Yes, my queen. They arrived safely just as you intended.”

  “And what of the elf?”

  “He will join them shortly.”

  She turned toward him menacingly, eyes turning to red fire as a glint of her power surged. “See that he does…or I will devour you alive.”

  A feeble, “My queen”, was all he could muster as he bowed and backed out of the room.

  Heading for a tall shape covered by a golden cloth in one corner, she decided to see for herself, for these spies couldn’t be trusted despite their sincerity. She pulled the cloth to the floor, revealing a shimmering portal that seemed to show a portrait of herself. Her depiction wore a soiled gown that had known better days. Time had a way of changing such finery for the worse without good care. The woman’s body had fared only slightly better, dirt smudging each cheek, her hair dirty and matted. Some might have thought the queen gazed upon some impending future reality, but she wasn’t even really looking at herself at all. Smiling grimly, she put one hand to the mirror’s edge, spoke a magic word, and stepped through, vanishing from Olliana.

  After a moment of flashing colors and whooshing air, he stepped onto blackened and charred earth, blinking in the sunlight. Mountains loomed all around and deep green forest covered everything but the area just before him, which looked to have been blasted with fire so severely that nothing grew here anymore. His eyes searched the sky for threats, but nothing appeared. No signs of movement came from the slopes’ craggy shadows and cave openings, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t being watched. He’d maintain a constant vigil lest his death appear on wings, but for now everything seemed fine. He was alone.

  As he glanced about to get his bearings, he noticed a faint trail leading away from the Dragon Gate behind him. Raith’s eyes lit up and he set off at a jog, his distaste for such exertions forgotten. Time was short, for the champions wouldn’t take long to kill that stupid dragon. While he’d long admired the creatures, he’d never met one before the banishment. He knew some dragons were smarter than others and was certain that this dragon hadn’t been the famed Nir’lion. He’d probably not have gotten past that one. Curiosity as to her whereabouts lingered, though it occurred to him that perhaps she had died here somehow. It was something to ponder later.

  Now he had to get to the soclarin ore, retrieve a healthy supply, evade the Ellorians when they arrived, and get back through the gate. Then he’d find his way back to the horses and eventually reach his secret tower in the crags of the Naken Peaks. He would learn to fashion magic items from the ore as Soliander had done, and once ready, would bring all of Honyn to its knees.

  With lust for power distracting him, he made quick progress up the winding path, shadowed by the thick canopy of trees. The dragons wouldn’t see him now unless one shape shifted to human form and followed, but he doubted they would. Dragons didn’t care to remain in that form long and had little reason to suspect anything was here. Soliander had undoubtedly not told them of the ore, and unless they’d discovered it on their own, they were none the wiser.

  The trail ended in a thicket that only someone in armor could pass without getting shredded, and while it looked natural, he suspected otherwise. He murmured a quick incantation, but nothing happened. Gripping his staff for more power, he tried again. This time the brush parted to reveal a short path. He smirked and set off.

  The winding trail soon deposited Raith in a narrow, sloping ravine of rough stone that rose sharply toward a natural cave. Feeling clever for getting this far, he started for the mine opening, pulling a fist-sized bag from a pocket. It would hold far more than it appeared, being enchanted to be nearly bottomless and hold tons of weight without burdening the one who carried it. It neatly eliminated the need for help, which was just as well. He’d never have gotten assistants here anyway and it spared him the trouble of killing his hired help yet again, not that he really cared.

  He’d taken no more than a few steps when the rock wall beside the entrance broke apart. It didn’t fall to the ground as expected, instead forming itself into a humanoid shape taller than him, two powerful arms and legs attached to a muscular torso. The menacing head turned to him with a sound of grating stone, two hollow eyes narrowing as it stepped in his direction.

  “A stone golem,” he muttered, disappointed. “I should’ve known.” Only blunt force could defeat one but his staff would snap like kindling. Magical power was his forte anyway. His eyes on the heavens, he focused his will on a cloud and spoke.

  “Uusrolinip, uusrarkitor!” Two arcs of fire, two blasts of light!

  With a loud boom that echoed off the mountains, a forked shaft of lightning struck the golem in the head and leg, but it continued forward as if nothing had happened. Raith realized too late that it wasn’t the force of lightning that blew things a
part, but the effect on the material’s composition. Earth was largely immune to it. He had wasted energy and had only so much time before it reached him.

  The stone golem stopped to touch the rock wall and a large boulder rolled out of seemingly nowhere. The golem lifted it and then hurled it at Raith with startling speed. Thinking fast, he continued to cast the next spell on his mind – levitation – but changed targets from the golem to another boulder, which he lifted into the path of the one hurtling toward him. They collided with a horrible crack, showering the ravine with jagged fragments. One struck him hard enough to dislocate his shoulder and he gasped at the pain, blood running down his arm. Quickly he pulled out a vial and tore the stopper off with his teeth, draining it in one gulp. The injury healed like it had never been, and when he looked up again, movement behind the golem startled him.

  A figure dressed in black robes sat upon a rock, a staff in one hand. For a moment, an unexpected and yet likely name came to mind, but it couldn’t be. Even great wizards couldn’t be two places at once. Then all thought of the black figure vanished as the golem lifted another boulder, this one smaller and more easily targeted than before.

  Raith barely dodged it before another followed. He wasn’t the most agile fellow and couldn’t keep this up, so he tilted his staff forward and focused. With a loud bang, the next head-sized boulder shattered two paces from him on an invisible barrier, the shards scattering. Dust cascaded around him as Raith trembled from the impact. Another rock did the same, then another and another, each one testing his strength, each one pushing the barrier closer to him.

  The golem advanced, still hurling boulders as it came, pulling stone from its own chest and throwing it. As if made of liquid rock, it filled the hole in its chest from its own body as it absorbed more stone from the ground while walking, reforming itself spontaneously. The distance between them quickly shortened and a surge of panic struck Raith. He had one chance to drop the barrier and destroy this thing and then run for his life, for the robed figure would go next and his strength was spent.

 

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