Frozen to the Core

by Paul Cude

  “Bring me the first one,” he ordered brutally, not even a hint of emotion resonating in his voice.

  Two of his men picked one of the females at random, and dragging her by the hair, pulled her over to their leader, kicking and screaming, throwing her to the floor at his feet.

  “Hold her down,” he commanded, as the others watched on.

  They did as they were told, all the time ignoring the defenceless woman’s screaming and struggles.

  Placing his open palm on her forehead, the leader closed his eyes and within his mind, recounted ancient, forbidden magic, wishing for it to be over. Unfortunately for him, it had yet to begin.

  Cool, yellow light enveloped the tips of his fingers and the female’s forehead. Immediately her thrashing about stopped, her body becoming quiet and compliant. The whimpering from the others stopped. Ice cold silence encompassed everything.

  Locked away in a shadowy, black cage, his thoughts surrounded her magic, marvelling at its beauty, enthralled by its power. Tailing off, a straggling strand of light twisted and turned, this way and that, disappearing off somewhere deep inside her body. No doubt the binding to her life force, he supposed, no longer interested, only caring about what he could take and how much effort it would cost him. Turning in an instant, a cool, calculated rage consumed him. Using his mind as a sledgehammer, he struck the first blow against the cage, pleasure rushing through him as huge, zigzagging cracks cut across its frame, weakening its structure immensely. Through tiny little openings, supernatural power shone out, the colours looking like facets of a diamond. One more blow should do it, he knew, that’s how close he was. Aware of the consequences of his actions, he battered the remaining defences with everything he had. An explosion without sound was his stark reward, a superheated ball of energy infusing his very essence, inundating his whole self, a power that he hadn’t felt in many, many decades unlocking familiar sensations and abilities. An ecstasy the likes of which he’d never known consumed every atom of his being, the prehistoric monster hidden deep within him for so long roared at being finally awoken. Around him the earth trembled, ice peeled from the walls, stalactites and stalagmites crumbled into nothingness, and rocks tumbled from the ceiling. For all intents and purposes, it was an announcement, not only to those around him, but to the world and its denizens. Something from far in the past had come home, seeking to right a wrong and return to what it considered its rightful place. Evil rejoiced momentarily. It wouldn’t be long now, it really wouldn’t.

  Right in front of their eyes, the scared and wretched female form being held down by two of the vicious thugs, glowed fleetingly, before the skin on the outside started to contract. As a collective intake of breath ricocheted around the enclosure, the by now withered skin melted into nothingness, leaving a bare, solitary skeleton stuck to the icy floor. It was enough to start a riot. The remaining women prisoners went mad, some trying to evade the guards and run away, others risking life and limb by fighting hand to hand with them. After approximately ten seconds, wicked, dark blue magic surged forth from their leader’s hands, knocking the women to the floor, stunning and paralysing them all. One by one, the essence of their lives were given over to the leader, his second in command, and the two others with them. Seven of the women’s lives were claimed by the leader, increasing his supernatural power exponentially, four for the second in command with both of the thugs taking three lives each, revelling in the dark deeds that had returned ethereal power which they thought of as rightfully theirs, and had on numerous occasions wondered if they’d ever experience again. So here they were, a fighting force of four, but four of the most powerful, most despicable, beings ever to stalk the earth. If those across the planet had known what had just occurred, most would have cowered in fear. As it was, this was played out in one of the most desolate, remote and unlikely places, with only a handful of individuals knowing what had gone on. Secrecy would play its part, and if things worked out, then life forms across the world needed to watch out. One thing was for certain... they’d be coming for you.

  Before leaving the freezing room full of tattered rags and skeletons, the leader gave out orders. One of the two men with their powers returned, was ordered to take up a position in the cavern with the dragon prisoner by the stream and use the magic that he’d just regained to watch out for any approaching parties of beings... in particular, nagas. The leader explained that he had a hunch that the naga king and his lackeys wouldn’t be too far out by now. With a bit of notice, it might be possible to arrange an appropriate greeting for them. Wouldn’t that be nice?! The other was to stand guard over the naga Marg’s private room, and cloak it with a very specific, undetectable magic, one that should stop any telepathic messages getting in or out. It wouldn’t do to have Marg and the naga king contacting each other, especially given the leader’s concerns about what the naga and Man were up to. Cutting off all surreptitious telepathic contact seemed like the right thing to do.

  Atop the block of ice that he slept upon, Man was briefly awoken, sure that he’d heard something... a rock slide maybe, or ice or snow falling from high up on the walls. But as quickly as it had come, it disappeared, and with no one else rushing to either help or see what had happened, he figured it must have been part of his dreams, which of late had become more nightmarish than anything else. Quickly he dozed back off.

  At his remote enclave, Marg was abruptly startled awake, not so much by the sound of rocks and ice moving, but more like a prickling sensation of darkness piercing his scales all over. Never before had he felt such malevolence or maliciousness. A chill, not from the temperature or the frozen water all around him, crept up from his tail, gorging itself on his innards, attempting to consume his very soul. Something, somewhere close by, was very, very wrong, he knew.

  Having overslept, unusually, Man finally turned up to find his naga cohort looking frazzled and agitated. Settling down on the floor next to him, through their shared telepathic bond, the young boy dragon asked what was wrong.

  “You didn’t feel it last night?”

  “No... at least I don’t think so. I woke up startled at one point, but I didn’t think too much of it.”

  “I bet that was it,” declared Marg. “Almost certainly the magic inside you giving you a subtle hint.”

  “A hint as to what?”

  “Of that my young friend, I can’t be sure. But something significant happened last night, of that much I am certain. We should continue with our lessons, with great haste. I envisage having to use what you’ve learnt, very shortly.”

  And so they did, continuing with their discussions about projectiles, Marg eluding to the theory of throwing fireballs, something that was far from his specialities given how much nagas dislike anything hot or fiery, all the time appearing outwardly calm and relaxed, inside feeling anything but.

  Another twenty four hours passed without incident, before the leader’s man at the cavern with the stream reported that he needed to see him as a matter of urgency, through the secretive telepathic link that they’d established after regaining their magical dragon powers. In only a matter of minutes the leader arrived, his speed bolstered by the supernatural power that had always been his.

  Tucking themselves away out of sight of the bound and restrained dragon prisoner, the chief asked the question that had been on his mind since the very first message.

  “Report!”

  “They’re out there, I’m sure of it.”

  “Really?”

  “I’ve had contact a few times now. It’s almost as if they swim in and out of range. If I had to guess, I’d say they’re a few hours out, but moving in this general direction.”

  “Can you let me experience it for myself?”

  “Sure,” whispered his man, opening up his telepathic link fully with the leader, whilst at the same time reaching out to the furthest extent with all the magic he had. Both waited patiently, their heartbeats slowed, their breathing quiet but regular, anticipating what was to come.
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br />   There... there... again! He could see it through his mind’s eye now, contacts, large intelligent ones at that, and more than a few, all heading slowly this way from a point far upstream. It could be no one else. Slapping his underling on the shoulder for good measure, and with a smile on his face, he sprinted off at pace, using his power to keep him upright and out of danger, eager to get back to his room. As he dashed past the restrained dragon, his face contorted into a snarl of defiance, something the prisoner recognised for what it was. The enemy had their magic back, he thought, and so the world was in a whole host of trouble. Inside, Unlucky quaked at what he’d just seen. Bad enough the display of anger and displeasure towards him, indicating that yet another beating was imminent, but the speed with which he ran could only mean one thing, and that terrified him more than repeated torture, or even dying in this unforgiving hellhole. Things had changed, and he had no idea how or even why. This was bad... very, very bad.

  After dishing out the orders, he knew now that there was simply no turning back. Too much had been achieved, too much had been sacrificed. It was now or never. Do or die. And so resigned to everything so long in the making, he accepted this period of relative calm before the storm, and headed off to see his son and their current naga guest, all the while wondering who had been teaching who.

  From out of nowhere, Man’s father came storming through the entrance, a deep seated look of satisfaction etched across his face. Instinctively, and without any kind of give-away, both naga and student erected their respective mental barriers, determined not to get caught off guard, even though in this environment there should be little or no threat.

  “How goes the training?” the leader asked, taking in everything around him.

  “We progress well, if not a little slowly,” answered Marg, a slight hiss in the background of his voice, the only giveaway that he wasn’t human. “Crossing the magical boundaries of naga and dragon are not only complicated but exhausting as well. But the youngster shows spirit and guile, something any good sorcerer should possess in spades.”

  “Indeed, indeed.”

  Having been lured into a false sense of security, it was then that the sucker punch arrived, truly out of nowhere.

  “Why don’t you tell me what you’ve really been doing?” demanded the leader, a sickly, smug grin crawling across his face.

  In both of their minds, a collective ‘uh oh,’ rang out like a village church bell late at night.

  “I’m not sure what you mean,” replied the naga, sounding as sincere as possible.

  “Oh don’t be coy. I know all about your schemes and plans. Do you think me stupid?”

  Every molecule of Man’s body was screaming out in terror, transfixed at how badly this had gone and how quickly it had happened. From nothing to something in less than a heartbeat, something that could be their undoing unless he acted fast.

  “Father...”

  A backhanded slap with all the ferocity and power of a fighter jet caught Man just beneath the jaw, sending him sprawling across the open space, smashing clumsily into the rocky wall some twenty or so metres away, sliding comically down onto the slippery floor as he did so. Looking on in disbelief, if Marg still had any doubts about his friend’s intentions, they’d all been washed away now. As the leader and the naga faced off, magic hummed across the air, igniting the molecules between them, almost alive, with a will of its own. It had been more decades than he could recall since he’d last fought with the supernatural power that was his. Only now did he realise just how much he’d missed it, only now did he truly relish the prospect of battle. As blood seeped through Man’s lips and onto the brilliant, icy white of the floor beneath him, he struggled to get to his feet, struggled to make the difference he knew he had to.

  “I don’t want to fight you,” Marg told the leader, “but if I have to I will. Defeat is all you’ve got to look forward to.”

  Over the course of his time there as a guest, or not, so to speak, the naga, a keen observer of everything, had taken an interest in all that he had seen. And although recognising that their leader, standing before him now, had somehow regained a fraction of his magical ability, Marg really didn’t see it as any sort of threat. He knew that he was stronger, more quick witted, better suited to the environment and able to wield everything he had at a moment’s notice. Of one thing he was absolutely certain, that he would be the outright winner in a fight, and would go on and take out every being here if need be. Wrong wouldn’t necessarily be the right word to describe the naga’s thinking, after all, it was only his opinion, but he was far off the mark, failing to recognise the will, and more importantly, the evil intent behind his opponent’s power. If he had, then he would have been not only fearful for his life, but for that of his new found friend as well.

  “I suppose you think you’re clever with your secret telepathic link and your twisted plots and plans,” the leader sneered.

  “It was never my intention to cause any harm. I just want to get back to my kin, return to the sea and leave all this behind me. Set me free, and we can forget any of this ever happened.”

  It was exactly at that point that Marg felt the first familiar touch, some way off in the distance. A coiled surge of fear and panic started to unravel within him, recognising not only his monarch, but his companions as well. Metres away, the leader’s sickly grin spread out across his wicked face.

  “Are they getting closer by any chance?” he quipped.

  For Marg, it was the last straw. There was no way in hell he was leading the king of his kind into any sort of trap, something this was clearly designed to be. Without hesitation, and with his heart as cold as the immediate surroundings, he called forth his ancient magic, and set about destroying these fools.

  There was, however, only one problem, one that he was unable to envisage, one that if he’d recognised it, would have caused him to flee rather than fight. You see the being he found himself faced off against, the leader of this rag tag community of would be dragons, although not having access to all his supernatural powers, and looking pretty pitiful in magical terms, had been, in his day, one of the most powerful and dangerous beings to ever have walked the earth. Even after many, many decades locked up in an icy prison like this, you simply don’t lose the danger, the arrogance or the attitude. What Man’s father currently lacked in ethereal ability, he more than made up for with his sense of self-importance, superior belief and his willingness to do absolutely anything for his cause, no matter how despicable and depraved. In short, he would stop at nothing to get his way, something the misinformed naga was about to find out.

  Too caught up in his current predicament to warn his monarch, knowing that he would as soon as he could, Marg allowed the magic to consume him and in his mind started to utter the words that would bring the dragon leader to his knees, quite literally. But before his power could obey that command, his mental defences were torn asunder, thrown to the wind, scattered across time, never to be seen again.

  A serpent-like hissing howl filled the chamber as the imposing naga collapsed to the floor with a deafening THUD, causing ice to crack and the rocky walls to shake. Having staggered to the floor, Man looked on in disbelief at what had just happened, two thoughts alone dominating his mind.

  How the hell had his dad just taken down Marg, and what did this mean for him?

  Elsewhere in the prison, Josh had been asked to accompany three of his father’s men in the direction of the naga guest’s sanctuary. Unsure of what was going on, and caught off guard, he could do nothing but comply.

  With nothing but the gurgling of the stream for company, Unlucky fought off the cold in his usual way, sorting out memories of happier times from long in the past, allowing his mind to wander, taking him away to anywhere but here. Unfortunately, that only lasted so long before reality returned, usually with a bump. Opening his eyes, his body shivering uncontrollably, the first thing he noticed was the bloodthirsty looking human shape, still on the lookout over by the stream.
‘Odd,’ was what he’d thought when he’d arrived the previous day, but now it was just downright strange. That combined with the fact that their leader seemed to have some semblance of his magic back, gave him grave cause for concern. As his stomach rumbled from not having been fed, he wondered where the elder of the two brothers who normally brought him food was, and just what was going on as a whole. Were they waiting for someone to arrive? Could they have actually got a message out? Was his time here about to come to a crushing end? Those were all questions that played on his mind as he courageously battled the cold and tried to stave off unconsciousness.

  Clawing at the floor with his fingernails, forked tongue hissing like an out of control steam train, his tail twitching and writhing, Marg’s mind was not his own, his mental defences now nonexistent thanks to the furious and outrageous attack by the leader, evil intent combined with ancient dragon magic and know-how, no match for a naive young naga.

  Sifting through the alien landscape of another being’s mind was both pleasurable and exotic, the leader found. Satisfaction at smothering his enemy’s mental defences almost instantly caused him great delight as he searched scattered alien thoughts. Spells, hexes, recipes for magical artefacts, as well as detailed maps of this whole region, flooded every part of him, his eidetic memory taking in every last piece of information. Almost overwhelmed, he forced himself to continue, take every last scrap, knowing that this might be his one chance, concern about the effect he was having on the naga’s mind nowhere to be seen.

  Mental defences intact and erect, Man unsteadily stood, appalled at what was happening to his new found friend, wondering whether or not to launch an all-out attack on his father, who for now, at least, seemed to be ignoring him.