“Don’t worry. I have a plan,” Jasra said. I studied the mountains, they rivalled the Himalayas and because I was bound to protect her, I told her that she could not breathe the air that high because it was too thin for human beings.
We flew straight up the sides of the peaks until I could sense a difference in the air and found it a struggle to fly myself. Jasra had spelled a bubble of air at lower pressure around herself but I had no such luxury.
It was bitter cold and even I felt it. Once I reached the top of the world and went over it, the descent was much easier on the other side. The terrain was different; the land was gentler with more cultivated areas, broad plains that were thousands of hectares planted with crops that resembled corn, cotton and wheat. The forests were sculpted into geometric shapes and separated the land into grids.
I saw hamlets, villages but only a rare few larger cities. The homes and businesses were made of a red stone and brick, rarely higher than five stories. I saw no castles or manor houses and in the cities, the buildings reminded me of old Manhattan lofts and factories. There were a preponderance of churches, all built like Gothic Cathedrals. There was a plethora of greenery everywhere, whereas on the other side of the range, the flora was in tones of orange, maroon and red; this side looked more normal to me.
My shadow skimmed the ground and the people that were outside looked up and pointed. I could see the wide ‘O’ of their mouths. Jasra laughed, almost a giggle and said, “Burn them, Dragon. All of them.”
I banked, tilted my head down and lit the grass to the sides of the lane. People scattered, only a few had their pants cuff catch fire and Jasra berated me.
“I told you to burn them!” she screeched.
“I did,” I defended. “I burned them.”
She thumped me on the neck and it hurt. Almost as if, it had pierced below my scales and bored into the flesh beneath. I moaned, shook my neck and veered off just missing a tall silo shaped structure.
“Owww!” I yelled. “That hurt!”
“I can do more,” she threatened. “If I tell you to burn, I mean kill, destroy them until nothing is left but ashes! Do you understand me, Dragon?”
“Yes, Mistress,” I panted, the fire still eating at my neck as if encircled by a ring of agony.
“You’ve managed to scatter them all inside their homes. Burn this village to the ground,” she ordered. I did so, laying a swathe of flames from one end of the town to the other. Once there was nothing left but a column of smoke, she sent me on towards the far horizon.
We flew over more plains, more villages until we came to a grim city built against the backside of a smaller mountain range. Atop one of the flattened peaks was a garrison. From its topmost tower fluttered a flag with a broken cross against a red and black background; it reminded me of a swastika but the X was backwards such as the American Indians used.
“Good. Ryan is here. Put me down as close to that Tower as you can without destroying any of the Keep,” she ordered.
“Yes, Mistress,” I said and landed just south of the Tower on the stretch between two buildings on a flat walkway. Immediately, guards attacked us. I reared up, spread my wings and blasted them to charcoaled flesh before a loud voice ordered them to desist. We saw a tall man with dark brown hair, piercing blue eyes and a military uniform that was clearly of US origins.
“Jasra!” He exclaimed and made as if to start forward but stopped when I threatened him with hissing and a clashing of teeth.
“Ryan,” she put a hand on my neck as she slipped off.
“Jasra?” He said again and approached me.
“It’s all right, Dragon. Ryan, this is it, this is what will bring my son and the Realm of Amber to heel. Down, Raven.”
I dropped to all fours and she conjured using the spell to make me miniature. I was once again hooded and struggled as a hand caught up my jesses. I felt cloth wrapped around a forearm and then was handed over to a man’s brawny grip.
“Amazing. A real-life Dragon. It’s only a myth on our shadow, Jasra,” his voice was smooth and I recognized a faint accent.
“Georgia,” I said and turned my ears towards his voice. “You’re from Georgia?”
“How do you know that?” He returned surprised. He started walking and we entered a long hallway. I could see the heat signatures of many men surrounding us and flapped my wings in agitation.
“Settle, Raven,” she ordered. “I am in no danger here.”
“Yes, mistress,” I said through gritted teeth.
“Raven is from your Shadow Realm, Ryan. Have you a secure place to keep him?”
“Like a cage? What if he gets big again?”
“Not unless I command it so. You’ll be getting reports in from Bainbridge Shire of massive destruction. I had my Dragon burn the village and surrounding countryside to the ground,” she said gleefully.
“We can stash him in the Eyrie, I suppose,” he said doubtfully. “Or do you prefer to keep him close by?”
“I want him within sight but contained. Have you a trap for wild cats about?”
“Mistress,” I protested. “I do not need to be caged; I will not leave unless you will it.”
“I am displeased with you, Raven and you will be punished by confinement in a cage and no food tonight,” she returned calmly.
I sulked beneath the hood. We traveled deep within the ugly brick and stone building and I heard doors of metal closing around us, a sinking sensation realizing that we were descending in an elevator.
“Your wounds are healed, Ryan?” She asked and her voice sounded different–more feminine and sensuous. I was pushed up against the wall and heard the sounds of two people kissing. Smelled the sudden release of pheromones.
“Hey, you two. Get a room,” I said disgusted that they were making out in front of me. Gross, even if I couldn’t see. He wrapped his hand around my snout and squeezed, I slashed at his arm with my front claws and was thrown to the floor of the cage by the leather jesses. Blood spattered on me, human, rich and steaming in the light of my infrared sense.
Jasra was pissed and put a spell on me that flattened me to the ground. All I could do was flap my wings into the grated floor and screech. “Cease, you flying lizard,” she spat. “Or I will cut your tongue out and blind you in the other eye. How dare you lay a hand on my consort?”
“It’s no more than a scratch, Jasra,” he soothed. “Don’t lose your temper and kill the beast. We need him, remember? Perhaps he’s jealous of the attention you give me.”
She stood, her breath coming in heavy gulps and I could feel her heartbeat racing. She enjoyed the sight of me in pain and subservient. Just like my former master, Webster. He too, got his thrills from torture and misery.
“It seems I need to readjust his Atarax dose, he is entirely too free with his actions,” she spat.
“Did you bring any? It’s in short supply this side of the range.”
“Don’t worry; I’ve enough for a lifetime.”
The lift shuddered to a stop, someone on the outside of the gate doors opened it and Jasra kicked me out onto a hallway of cool tiles. People scattered out of my way. Some were armed guards and others servants. She ordered one to take my leathers, carry me to the bedchamber of the man named Ryan, and tie me to the wardrobe’s legs with the chain and collar she gave him.
I felt cold, icy metal encircle my neck and my stomach shrank in horror. It was spelled with a black magic that burned as well as confined.
“It cannot hurt you as long as it is hooded and tied; I have also bound its mouth closed. Take it away; we will be in the War Room,” she told the man servant that held my leash.
I was dragged on a chain like a reluctant puppy and heard their departing footsteps leading off in another direction. I shivered in both fear and anger that I, such a powerful creature had been reduced to a tethered hound. I felt it when the sun went down, my whole body shook as I fell into sleep and a well of depression. My stomach growled in emptiness and because I was hung
ry, I got little rest that night.
The pair came back hours later smelling of food and lust, I had to endure the sounds and smells of the two mating. Her cries and his groans were uglier than the images in my head and made me want to scream loud enough to drown them out. Jasra got up once during the night to use the restroom and she made sure she kicked me both coming and going. At one point, she broke my hind leg and my cry of pain made her giggle. I spent a miserable night holding my leg off the ground as tremors wrecked my frame.
When daylight came, he was staring over the edge of the bed at me, my hood in his fingers. “What are you?” He asked studying me. I could not reply as she had bound my mouth shut. I lay on my good side, keeping the weight off the broken limb. Getting up, he walked over to me and squatted. He was over six ½ feet tall, very naked and very well endowed with muscles to match.
“Stand still,” he said and drew out a knife I knew was called a K-bar, one of those wicked commando blades used in all kinds of murders. I backed up between the wall and the wardrobe hissing as loud as I could with my mouth-taped shut.
“I’m going to cut your gag, stay still,” he ordered and stepped on the chain so I couldn’t move. With one stroke, he severed the leather tied around my snout and waited. Prompted me. “Your name?”
“Raven.”
“What part of Earth Shadow are you from?”
“Ireland by way of New York City. How did you get here?”
“How did you?”
“I Hell rode and Flora started me,” I explained.
“I met Jasra through Luke on earth, Los Angeles. Followed her from a bar and wound up in Khafra. She was…flattered and my knowledge of Physics explained a few things. Have you been to the other end of the Realms?”
“You mean the Courts of Chaos?”
“Yes. It must be a fascinating amalgam of the Laws of Physics and Einstein’s Theoretics.”
“There are no laws that work in Chaos,” I said.
“Are you born of Chaos since you have another form?”
“I was born in Ireland.”
“Maybe so but Jasra said you’re the son of Merlin and the grandson of Corwin. Luke never mentioned you.”
“Merlin never knew I existed until I was seventeen,” I returned sadly. “And for just a short while at that.”
“What do you mean?”
I cocked my head towards him. “I died when I was seventeen, Webster killed me. The Unicorn captured my spirit and put it inside this body, which is only a spell construct. I’m not alive and I haven’t been for two years.”
“Will you obey Jasra’s commands?”
“As she commands me, so shall I obey,” I answered.
“And me? Will you obey me?”
“If she says so.”
“I do say so, Raven,” she came off the bed around him cloaked in the living robe of red flame that was her hair. I swallowed; she was breathtakingly lovely and sensual until I realized that she was producing pheromones to entice me. They did not seem to bother the man for his eyes did not even widen. She kissed him on the shoulder and they coupled before me, forcing me to endure a scene of such intimacy, power and raw lust that it disgusted and sickened me. It reminded me of the abuse I had endured at Lucian Webster’s hands. I couldn’t drown out the noise and the smell of it; all I could do was close my eyes and turned my head away. No one took an interest in my broken leg and I was forced to suffer with it until she deigned to notice.
Chapter 19
The first night’s march brought the small squad to the beginnings of the forest of Bunmuir. Corwin who had seen both Arden and the redwoods of California was amazed at the size and variety of the trees. The undergrowth was as thick as any southern jungle and he understood why the General had muttered about an impossible task.
“Are there trails through here?” Corwin asked and was told that there were certain routes that all travelers followed which made it easier for the bandits to waylay solitary merchants. They made a dry camp just inside the perimeter and tied the horses to the trees. Corwin walked the campsite with Pire and set up a ward so that nothing could approach without warning.
“Murphy?” Pire asked. “How will he keep track of us? The canopy is too thick to spot us down here.”
“He’s scouting ahead and will be waiting for us at the first clearing. He’ll join us at night,” Corwin replied. “I’ve never seen a wood this thick.” He asked one of the other squad men about the local fauna that inhabited the trees and was told the usual–wolves, dire beasts, wyverns, wild cats, feral dogs and ghouls. Maybe an occasional demon cut loose from some wizard and further in, snow apes and cave jackals. Those had a nasty habit of cracking an unwary man’s skull and eating out their brains. Not to mention the normal bears, wild boars, stags and elk whose tempers were as ugly as a hog’s.
Then, there were the brigands who haunted the fringes off the trail and lived off the infrequent travelers who had to pass through to reach the other side of Khafra’s border. The only other option was to take a ship around but that involved a journey twice as long as the trail through the forest and was equally dangerous because of pirates. King Luke’s new reign hadn’t quite eradicated the threats of pirates at sea and at his borders.
“Wait,” the corporal, sighed. “We haven’t seen anything yet.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Corwin said and returned to the campsite.
*****
Marcus sneezed. And froze. The sound echoed dully in the long corridor yet nothing moved. There was only a faint stirring of the dust as he moved through it. Though he had only been inside for a half hour, it felt like a lifetime. Pausing to bring up the mind picture of his map, he looked at both sides of the wall to run his hands along its surface searching for a hidden door or latch. He found one and slowly pushed back a small wooden cover that let him peer into a room. Lights from a lamp showed him a narrow angle and from that little slice, he could see a couch, a desk piled with papers, vellums and slates. The fireplace was shooting sparks up the chimney and against the metal fire screen.
The desk was huge, made of a strange metal and glass with tubular legs. A box sat on top that admitted a bluish light and the screen flickered as if the images were moving. Occasionally, a chime seemed to come from it.
Bookshelves covered an entire wall and there was a rich piled carpet on the floor. He pushed harder, the panel flipped open, and he sprawled forward onto his hands and knees. The carpet kept him from scraping anything but the Wyche ball fell out of his hands to roll across the floor where it stopped at the toe of a pair of boots. Marcus looked up into the dark saturnine face of a man in his 30s, dressed in blue jeans, T-shirt and a suit jacket. There was a strange device on his wrist that Raven had called a watch.
*****
“Uh, hello,” Marcus stuttered. The man stepped forward and grabbed him by the back of his shirt to lift him up dangling off the ground.
“You’re a little large for a wall rat,” the man said. “Who are you?”
“Marcus,” he stuttered, his fingers moving in a spell.
The man shook him. “Don’t try it; you’ll only backlash it on yourself. What are you doing in here?”
“I came to steal something so I could sell it. My mom’s sick and my seven sisters are starving,” Marcus lied.
“The penalty for stealing from the King is amputation of your hands, boy.”
Marcus gulped. “I wasn’t planning on stealing from the King.”
“I am the King,” Luke said and propelled the boy towards a huge, overstuffed chair. Marcus fell into it more than sat and looked frantically about for an escape route. Luke removed his bag and went through it, finding his wizards bits and pieces, his tools and the map. His fingers closed around the last item and pulled it out. The light glinted off the diamond hard black scale.
“Ah,” the king said drawn out. “Where are you from, Marcus? Amber, perhaps? Although, I doubt Random would send a child spy to Khafra.”
“I
’m not from Amber,” Marcus protested.
“Where then? Topaz, Braeden, Berengen, Moravia?” The King named all of the Golden Treaty Alliances and not a one was Marcus familiar enough to claim he was from.
“Are you a spy, boy? Tell me the truth or it’ll go worse for you,” the King threatened.
“I’m not a spy,” he returned hotly. “I’m here to help a friend.”
“A friend being?”
“Roelle. She ran away from her father and an arranged marriage. I thought if I could steal enough we could sell it and have enough for a farm somewhere. Or an Inn, I’m a very good chef.”
“You’re a lousy thief,” Luke said and called out. In seconds, two guardsmen entered at a run and snapped to attention their eyes riveted to the teen. “Take this boy to the holding cells and see if you can get any information out of him. Don’t kill or maim him and be careful, I believe he has some wizard’s training.”
“Yes, your Majesty,” they saluted and Marcus was dragged off to the dungeons. He did not attempt to struggle or fight, most of his spells were still on the King’s desk. Idly, Luke picked up the black scale and turned it over knowing immediately what it was. What he couldn’t figure out was why Random had sent a teenage boy to attempt to rescue the Dragon.
*****
Roelle woke before dawn, a sick feeling in her gut. Throwing on her clothes, she sneaked out the hallway and down to Marcus’s room at the top of the stair. No one answered her knock so she slipped the door open as Raven had taught her and entered the darkened room.
The bed was empty but mussed as if someone had slept briefly and Marcus’s dark clothes were gone as well as his pack and things. She cursed softly under her breath knowing that he had gone without her in an effort to shield her from risk. There was nothing she could do until he returned. She spent the rest of the night huddled under a blanket in his chair and when the smells of breakfast cooking rose to the upper floors, she returned to her room to dress. She hovered in the doorway to the dining room and did not see him. Found a spot next to an old farmer and a young maidservant spending the next hour toying with her food. Still no sign of Marcus. Worried, she went back to the library and found Evril with his bike.
Black Dragon of Amber Book Two: The Road to Amber Page 11
