When Dragons Die- The Complete Trilogy Box Set

by K. Scott Lewis

  Arda returned the cube to him and went over to the table, the wizard’s robes swaying over her tail as she walked. A new selection of food was spread out: thinly sliced ham, melon, more juice, and… “Coffee?” she asked.

  Tal Harun grinned. “That table’s magic is how I keep my humanity intact after so long here. My mind may not remember Ahmbren,” he pointed to his head, “but my soul does.” He rubbed his belly. “You should try the coffee.”

  Arda turned. “I love coffee,” she grinned. “Kaldor introduced us to it.”

  She took one of the filled mugs and held it to her lips, first inhaling the smoky aroma and feeling the steam on her cheeks before she took a sip. Dark and rich, it reminded her of home in Windbowl, before Kaldor had died. She choked up at the sudden memory of that summer after Lovers’ Night, when she and Anuit had explored their love and Aradma and Kaldor were newlyweds. “You’re right,” she told him. “This table holds the magic of family.”

  Tal Harun placed the cube down on the workbench and joined her at the table, taking one of its plates. “Oh, wonderful!” he chuckled. “Eggs! The table knows it’s going to be a tough day, I guess.” He loaded his plate with fried eggs, bacon, and two slices of melon, and took his mug of coffee.

  “You never said what eluded you,” Arda prompted.

  “Ah, yes!” he agreed, between mouthfuls of bacon. Then he grinned. “You!”

  “Me?!”

  “Well, the Light,” he clarified. “Think about it. This whole realm, Dis, was formed by the Black Dragon! He is the Living Seal of Dark. The counterbalance, the complementary pair-bond, to the Dark is the Light. Archurion—whose seal now lives in you. Your seal, your link to the Light, you can charge the core of the cube and bring life to my tablets. The interior is hollow, waiting for you to fill it.”

  “I don’t know how,” she replied. “The seal… it’s in me, but I do not control it, and my link to the Light isn’t all that strong, considering.”

  “I might be able to help attune you,” he said, putting his food down. “Would you let me?”

  She nodded. “Yes.”

  Tal Harun came over to her, and again she was struck by his resemblance to Kaldor, even as he was different. He placed his hand beneath the robe that covered her, pressing his palm flat against her sternum. His other palm he lay across her forehead between her horns. He closed his eyes and began chanting quietly, whispering a series of repeating, hypnotic syllables.

  o’wel sonooyef veyoharsajee, go’ho eead’abalta, elex’arpeh coman anootab ito’hem

  He repeated this over and over, his eyes moving rapidly beneath closed eyelids.

  Suddenly she felt it. In rapid succession, three

  tick tack tocks

  in her soul clicked into place as her seal and link attuned to each other and connected.

  Her spine straightened, and she stood poised, arms out wide and legs spread apart, as the Light rushed through her in an intensity that brought tears to her eyes.

  “Aaaaahhhhh!” she cried out, not screaming, but in free expression as the energy coursed through her and opened the center of her being.

  Tal Harun took a step back. “There,” he said. “Now you can truly be called a Living Seal. I can’t tell you how to do it—my methods are through spells, and that is not your way—but you could charge the cube.”

  “What do you mean?” Arda asked after the initial rushing of Light calmed. Her skin still tingled with the energies that swirled through her being in gentle eddies.

  “Initiate it. Grant it a link. Make it a channeler as you would another person. I think you can do this intuitively.”

  Arda nodded. She felt the truth of his words.

  She took the cube in her hands and focused. She reached into its space—she could feel the elemental fabric of its surfaces offer a slight sort of resistance—and then she was in its center, guiding the Light. Feeling it through, she focused her energy until she felt the glowing pulse of a heartbeat in its center—

  The cube flared to life, each symbol and square highlighted as finely luminous spidery lines.

  “Splendid,” Tal Harun said. “Now, let’s go save the world—and your friend—from demons.”

  Rifts started to bleed through the walls of Sanctuary.

  “It’s time,” he said. “This place will be stable in a few days, but until then…”

  She nodded.

  He stared at her as the rifts continued to widen.

  “What?” she asked.

  “Hmm.” He cleared his throat. “I’m going to need my robe back.”

  29 - One Queen to Rule Them All

  Naiadne stood beside the five demon nobles who had already pledged to her, three lords and two ladies. Through her, the dark conduits from the thirteen troglodyte tower-mothers flowed into Dis. Five of the Twelve had already been enticed by the influx of living-soul offerings she’d brought them through forming pacts with the tower-mothers. It was only a matter of time before the others would turn as well. Yamosh was distracted by the war on Ahmbren, and his grip on Dis slipped with each passing day. She had gotten the god’s attention, though, and his awareness increasingly focused here. She could feel his presence growing, and he would soon manifest and fight to keep what he had stolen from her father.

  There across the wasteland of ice and bone stood the Dark Citadel. In it sat the empty throne that had once been her father’s. It jutted up out of the landscape, from this distance looking more like a rock column than the bones of which it was made. An eerie blue light crept from its seams, spilling across the landscape and ever-midnight sky.

  Taer Koorla’s presence beat within her. Through the shadowpath links she had established between the other towers, the troglodytes were now united. The unfeeling warriors themselves would never be sorcerers, but they would fulfill their purpose of being the bedrock of Athaym’s army. The tower-mothers, however, had great capacity for malice. Hatred collected and concentrated the Dark’s powers of negation, and the pure potency of Dark currents that now flowed throughout the Underworld held the promise of Dis’s expansion into Ahmbren itself.

  They all waited for him to appear. Athaym. The last remnant of the Black Dragon. The demon lords seemed… nervous.

  Naiadne grinned. They had abandoned their loyalty while her father had been imprisoned in the Otherworld, and they were unsure as to what he might do to them.

  They really had nothing to worry about. As Athaym had told her, Dis had rules. She could enter, but he had not been able to do so until at least five had shifted their allegiance. Yamosh was now Dis’s sovereign, and because Athaym had held and lost sovereignty once, he couldn’t simply enter. He sent Naiadne ahead, and the demon lords most aligned towards destruction were attracted to the troglodyte tower-mothers’ malice as reflected in the elf girl’s soul. Palagoth, the master of hellhounds, Sintornath, the lord of terror knights, Emberlain, the lady of firefiends, Qazim, the prince of gluttontoads, and Kaliteth, the lady of painflayers. Each of them had given Naiadne the gift of a servitor as tribute to sweeten her father’s return. No, they had no need to worry, but it was good they trembled.

  Without warning, her father stood among them. They had never seen him before as Athaym the seelie, but they recognized his countenance immediately. The demon lords and ladies prostrated themselves on the ground, laying flat and extending their arms towards his feet.

  Athaym smiled at them. He did not smile at Naiadne. He simply nodded at her, and she swelled in pride that he honored her with no pretenses of affection.

  “We’re almost done here, Father,” she told him. “Once Dis is yours, we can turn our attention to the dragons in the Ice Plains.”

  “Yes,” he agreed.

  When she had first joined the towers, she had gained knowledge from the tower-mothers as they communicated with each other. One of the northern broods had been engaged with the Glavlunders, at first seeking to take the dragon eggs and then the dragons themselves. They had been unsuccessful, and Naiadne
had gotten the vague impression of a horned man leading them. He had ridden atop a flight of dragons to retake Faerieholm when Naiadne made the link to their brood-mother and recalled their warriors to the Underworld.

  “And the revenants,” Athaym added. “Then we’ll have enough to exterminate the people of faith across all of Ahmbren. And finally we’ll be free of gods.”

  The demons still lay prostrate on the ground. Only Naiadne’s servitors remained on their feet, standing a respectful distance behind the young cyan-haired girl.

  “Rise,” Athaym told the five prostrates. “It is time to cast down a god.”

  The demon lords rose, and at his command they summoned hosts of their kind. The miles between them and the Dark Citadel erupted with hosts of the other seven demon circles. Naiadne smiled as the forces collided and tore into each other. Her only regret was knowing her mother would share in this glory in the end, no matter how little she deserved it.

  * * *

  Anuit sat in the sand, knees pulled up to her chest and arms wrapped around her shins. She had stopped crying hours ago and now stared dully at the waves that lapped up and frothed around her ankles. Her gown was soaked through to her bottom. The water was cold despite the glaring heat of the sun.

  There is no afterlife. The secret of sorcerers. There was no eternal torment for offering a piece of one’s soul to the demon lords. There’s no point. We all eventually die. In exchange for pieces of their souls, sorcerers received power. They weren’t guaranteed happiness or joy, but they did get sorcery. What they did with that power was up to them; and Anuit had certainly been given her due. She was the most powerful sorceress since the Darkling Empire.

  But for what?

  For a while, she had been happy. Her power had made her valuable. Her power had given her purpose on Arda’s quest. Without her power, she never would have met the paladin, and so her power had given her happiness, for a time.

  But that is finished.

  Arda was lost to her. The cursed blood of Arda’s race, drawn out by this land, had finally overcome the darkling. The paladin had not been able to resist the power of Dis. The same incubus that had taken Desdemona’s life force had taken Anuit’s lover. Oddly enough, she wasn’t mad at the paladin. She pitied her. Of course she had given herself over to him—Kokhabaal was the incubus lord. How could anyone resist him?

  Bryona knelt beside her. The succubus had taken the human form she had worn back in Rille when Anuit had pretended to be a simple seamstress. Her face and body were the same—vibrant brown hair and glittering green eyes—but all the demonic features had vanished. She laid her hand on Anuit’s back.

  “My lady,” Bryona pleaded. “My mistress, my heart. Please, let us not stay here. We must continue on.”

  “Why?” Anuit asked. “All life does is take things away. Kaldor, Aradma, now Arda… she was the only one who hadn’t given up on me.”

  No, she thought to herself. Oriand believed in me too.

  “I haven’t given up on you,” Bryona said, looking hurt.

  Anuit looked at her servitor. “You really have served me, haven’t you?”

  Bryona beamed. “Come,” she said. “I won’t lose you to this place.”

  Anuit stood. Water trickled down the backs of her thighs. A strange sense of calm took her. There is no afterlife. Nothing awaits us after death. What did it matter if she met her fate now or later? What did it matter if they ever brought back the secret of Artalon to the world? What did she care of Ahmbren? Nothing mattered in the end. There was no purpose. They would all still die.

  Oblivion.

  The thought had a strange comfort to it. No more disappointment. No more sorrow. No loss.

  If we go back and survive this, I will grow old and die, and Bryona will die with me. Anuit gazed into Bryona’s green eyes. There is a piece of me within her. She was shaped from a shard of my soul. If we die together, I am no more. If I give her my life—

  “Bryona,” she said. She took the demon’s hands in hers.

  The succubus waited expectantly, breathing softly.

  “I don’t want to continue any more,” Anuit said.

  “What do you mean?” Bryona asked, concern in her voice.

  “You’re going to give me your blade,” the sorceress said, “and I’m going to take my life. I don’t want to live without Arda, and this way at least a part of me will survive in you. You will carry our memory into eternity. Just promise that you will remember her as she was on Ahmbren.”

  Bryona’s eyes filled with tears. “I don’t want to lose you,” the succubus said. Beneath the tears, Anuit could see hope in the demon’s eyes.

  Anuit reached out to the Dark. She wanted to taste its essence one last time. The power of the Void filled her, and she contemplated its essence.

  The Dark. Through death, I will become one with the Void.

  She felt its power of negation, its power to unmake what had been made. She offered her pain to it…

  and her turmoil was stripped away. She offered her despair…

  …and it was consumed by the Void. She offered it her sorrow…

  …and the Void took it, giving her back the expanse of possibility.

  No, she told herself. She held the image in her mind of herself as a beaten and defeated sorceress. I am not that!

  She reached out with the demonic insight granted by consuming and reintegrating Belham’s essence. Her eyes flashed dark, and Bryona stepped back in surprise.

  “What do you see?” the succubus asked. Imp sight was not something succubi shared.

  Anuit looked beyond the confines of Dis. She saw its ring of existence floating in the periphery around Ahmbren… and beyond that, she saw the Void.

  There were things moving in the Void. Slithering, formless, primordial things. Those Who Dwell Beyond. They drifted in the space around Ahmbren, but the light of the gods kept them at bay. She saw the hopes and dreams of mortalkind, made manifest in the faint outline of the Gods of Light, existing as a protective sphere around the world. The things in the Void moved around it but could not penetrate it. They passed by, and continued away from Ahmbren towards other worlds and other stars. Then she saw the gods turn in upon themselves, vulnerable to the emptiness of the Void. What then, if those things returned?

  Anuit’s mind came back to her self.

  “I saw… them,” she whispered.

  Bryona looked at her, uncomprehending.

  “I saw the purpose of the Kairantheum. I saw what it protects us from.”

  Bryona’s eyes widened reverently. “The Elder Beings,” she breathed.

  “Those Who Dwell Beyond,” Anuit confirmed. Purpose reinvigorated her. We must return to Ahmbren. The Kairantheum must be restored and controlled. Artalon must be protected. Suddenly, life mattered again.

  She locked eyes with the succubus, seeing with her imp sight the energy patters of the demon’s spirit, and the light of Anuit’s soul buried within.

  “Come to me,” Anuit told her servitor, holding her arms wide.

  Bryona grinned widely and slid her arms around Anuit’s waist. She tilted her head back and opened her lips, letting her eyelids drop in inviting passion.

  Anuit kissed Bryona, and the demon returned the kiss. Their limbs intertwined, pressing themselves to each other closely. Anuit slid her tongue into Bryona’s mouth and tasted the cherry sweet of the succubus.

  The Dark flowed through the sorceress and then into the demon.

  Bryona’s eyes widened in surprise, and suddenly the demon knew—Anuit could feel it through their pact-bond—that she had failed.

  Anuit was not going to end her life.

  Bryona struggled. She tried to push away, but at the same time she could not. She was so enthralled with Anuit’s passion; her body craved Anuit’s touch. She was a succubus, trapped by her own nature.

  “I love you,” Anuit said, opening her heart.

  “No…” Bryona murmured. “I hate you… and I love you… damn you!”


  “No,” Anuit whispered. “Let go.”

  “You were supposed to die for me,” Bryona said, her voice growing weaker. “So close…”

  “You will live on in me,” Anuit said. “You are me. Let yourself go.”

  Bryona shuddered and kissed the sorceress deeper, moaning in passion.

  Anuit held her tightly, pressing her closer until the demon’s body shimmered. Bryona’s essence started to dissolve, blurring around the edges. “Oh, Anuit!” Bryona cried, tears streaming down her face and dissolving into light.

  “Bryona, let go,” Anuit murmured. “Release your hate and anger to the Void and be free of it.”

  The succubus threw her head back. Her face relaxed, and true ecstasy touched her eyes. The release of forgiveness unknotted her being.

  “Oh yes… thank you…” were the last words Bryona whispered as her body dissolved into gossamer light and rejoined Anuit’s soul, pulled into orbit around the channeled Dark within the sorceress’s center.

  She let go of the Dark and stood alone on the beach. She took a deep breath. With the last of her demons reintegrated into her being, she stood whole for the first time, achieving what no sorcerer before her ever had.

  She knew Bryona’s mind now. She knew every deception, every lie. She knew Arda had not walked with her down the stairs into Dis. It had been Bryona the whole time.

  But what about with Kokhabaal?

  That had not been Bryona. Bryona had been surprised to see the paladin there with her lord.

  Anuit turned on her heels and immediately started marching back up over the sandy hills towards Kokhabaal’s lagoon.

  * * *

  Arda fell out of the Sanctuary rift right behind Tal Harun into a swarm of demons. He immediately threw out a battery of fire spells from his staff, clearing the area as best he could, but they kept pressing in around him, shadow knights, incubi and succubi, imps, and others that Arda could not identify.

  In that moment, after ten thousand years of surviving a personal war against the demon lords in Dis, Tal Harun might have died. A shadow knight moved in behind the wizard, black scimitars blazing with dark purple energy. Tal Harun didn’t see his adversary, focused as he was on sending forth torrents of lighting through the imp swarm at his feet.