by C E Johnson
He’s here, Dax whispered.
Ladon lifted his massive head from his great nest. “The mighty king and his bondsmate have returned to gain advice from an old dragon?” His tone was jovial while his face expressionless. He was in the center of his monstrous cave, surrounded by his treasures, organized in some pattern always just beyond Andrew’s comprehension. The tunnel, high over Ladon’s head, carved obliquely to allow him quick access to the surface, flickered with fragments of moonlight that flitted over the scales of the immense creature.
“As always, I come to you when I need sage counseling.” Andrew inclined his head to Ladon in a short bow. He felt a cool breeze traveling down through the overhead tunnel from the surface of Acacia, swirling and twirling around the massive dragon like an enormous fan.
“It’s good to see you my old friend,” Ladon spoke in a hushed voice. The great creature was on a raised dais, a perch carved from smooth brown stone, and he appeared very comfortable with the stone molding perfectly to wrap around his belly.
Andrew moved closer to the dragon through the coins, gemstones, statues, and stacks of objects that sparkled and shone in the mage-lights. “I’ve come back to ask your help.”
“I don’t see any treasure with you. What are you going to pay me with today?” Ladon asked in a jesting tone. With your small bondsmate?
He loves to tease. Dax was smiling in Andrew’s mind.
“For the good of Acacia.” Andrew answered weakly. His pulse began to hammer in his temples and he felt a sense of dread forming deep in his heart as he tried to think of how he should convey his concern.
Ladon lifted his head slightly higher, speaking in another jesting tone, “For the good of Acacia? I guess I should listen to your profound words.” A great gust of wind came bursting through the tunnel above, whistling through the treasures.
“I can tell you’re mocking me,” Andrew remained deadly serious, “but I think you’ll quickly realize just how important this is.” He felt weak and cold before this mammoth, but even dragons could know fear and death. He had seen so many die in the great battle on the Plains of Talval. “Earth is falling apart due to its link with Acacia and I’ve learned Samil’s son, Iscar, has a hand in the destruction.”
“How will Earth’s problems affect Acacia?” Ladon asked. The air became still, suddenly thick with uncertainty. A molten yellow fire flickered in Ladon’s golden eyes. There was pride in those eyes, a fierceness, but underneath it all, Andrew could see curiosity.
“I’m hoping you will use your skills of prophecy to tell me.” Andrew stopped his slow approach at the foot of Ladon’s perch. He stared into the dragon’s golden eyes, painted with such rippling hues of intense complexity that the colors boggled Andrew’s mind. “Ladon, what will happen to Acacia if Iscar destroys Earth? Does Iscar have his father’s dream of eventually defeating the dragons?” Andrew tried to stifle the ache in his chest, and for all his strength, he felt somehow broken and close to tears as he pictured the death of two worlds. “I want you to tell me exactly what sort of a mess is coming our way.”
Ladon snorted. “A prophecy is both intricate and delicate, like the threads of an enormous spider web. I often can’t simply see the future; instead, I see possible tendrils that exist. Any strand could break and change the outcome. The power of a prophet is unleashed by someone who approaches them with an earnest request for a prophecy. Are you asking how you will be involved in the war of the two worlds?”
Tell him the truth, Dax urged. Tell him about our hope to find out what the dragons will do. Give him the message-stone.
Andrew shook his head. “I’m actually hoping you will tell me how you are going to be involved, Ladon. I want to know what part the dragons will play in the approaching battles. Iscar is urging Emily to call the dragons to battle him on Earth.” Andrew withdrew the message-stone Iscar had sent Emily. He placed it on the ground and Ladon put a great foreleg upon it.
Ladon viewed the scenes held within. “You want to know what part I will play?” There was a new hint of interest in Ladon’s voice. “I will grant you this prophecy.” Suddenly appearing uncomfortable on his foundation, Ladon pushed the blackstone back to Andrew and shifted his weight on his own stone. “Let me consider the possibilities,” Ladon let out a grating growl and a rush of air passed between his teeth in a great stream. He laid his head down and closed his eyes. Andrew could sense an unusual form of magus coalescing in the huge creature as fathomless power began to swirl in the air around the brown dragon’s head. Eventually the old dragon opened his eyes, but he still didn’t speak for a time. A disconcerting feeling of unease filled the cave. Eventually he did speak. His tone was sad and pained. “You’re right to be worried, King Dalton.”
“What did you see?” Andrew leaned toward the great dragon.
“I see the possibility of Iscar conquering both of our worlds.” Ladon shook his head in a fierce motion of defiance. “I now realize that there are intricate changes occurring on the world of Acacia, changes I didn’t recognize were altered until now. I’m beginning to see more of the links between our planets that could lead to fear, pain, and darkness. Iscar plans to unleash the spirit of Drogor upon Earth. I see the potential of the dragons battling with Drogor.”
“Drogor?” Andrew whispered.
“Drogor would feed first on a black magician to become a vampire half-dead; then he would assimilate as many of the countless new magicians on Earth as Iscar could collect until he had enough strength to battle with the dragons.” Ladon slowly moved to his feet, his tail began to whip back and forth. “Drogor dreams of inhaling the death-smoke of a dragon and transforming into something beyond our current comprehension.”
A chill went up and down Andrew’s spine. “Can we defeat Iscar on Earth?”
“Iscar wants the elves and dragons to come to Earth where we would be weaker because he thinks he could more easily defeat us there. However, there is a chance we could steal his victory on Earth with great sacrifice.” Ladon stamped the ground with a foreleg. “What is your plan to deny him success?”
Tell him your plans, Dax advised.
“First, I believe we have to shut down Iscar’s portal.” Andrew’s voice shook. “Can you help me find it? I believe I will find clues on the Island of Bashan, in Samil’s records.”
“As other dragons before me, I face an opportunity to make a great sacrifice.” Ladon slowly unfurled his wings. His talons scraped along the stone as he roared out his answer, “Please climb aboard, King of Angkor. There’s no time to spare. Now is the time to fly.”
Andrew sprang to Ladon’s back, and in the blink of a dragon’s eye, they were off. The two traveled first to the Island of Bashan, where using a combination of Ladon’s power of perception and Andrew’s knowledge, they found documents detailing the location of a portal high in the mountains of northeastern Acacia. While searching the northern mountains, they discovered the tracks of travelers by the base of a remote mountain range. The old dragon followed the trail and flew into the cold air higher and higher until his breathing grew labored in the thin air. At that point, Ladon suggested Andrew finish the exploration along the pathway on his own.
“Thank you, my old friend.” Dr. D rubbed the scales of Ladon in appreciation, wondering if the dragon could even feel through his hard armor shell. “The portal must be close-by because we’re near to the peak.” As Ladon hovered, Andrew vaulted from the dragon onto a rocky outcropping that appeared to be along the worn path of progression of the trail. Kneeling in a light layer of new-fallen snow that glittered like jewels in the sun, Andrew remained unmoving for a short time, listening to the breeze whistle through the peaks. Once he thought it was safe, he glanced upwards, hoping he wouldn’t see any sentries overhead. Seeing only windswept promontories dotted with patches of blanketing snow, Andrew was satisfied that he hadn’t been discovered, and he used his heightened strength to continue upward, jogging and scaling the remaining distance, slowly approaching a tunnel high abo
ve that disappeared directly into the mountainside. I hope this is the right place, Andrew thought to himself.
There’s no turning back now, Dax whispered.
C H A P T E R 2 0
Conflict
Droth and Lambo approached the Dothan Forest from the north. They had eluded all further attempts at their capture by the soldiers of the Thief City. The search parties had only followed them for several miles, and Droth quickly realized the thieves were not going to travel too far to recover a single item that one of their members had stolen in the first place.
“And suddenly we stand at the edge of the awesome Dothan Forest.” Lambo spoke in a grandiose voice while he stood with arms folded, surveying the perimeter of the great woods.
“Why don’t you get to work setting up a fire and a grandiose meal for my grandiose belly,” Droth playfully teased his nephew. Lambo laughed and helped set up their camp in a field adjacent to the northern side of the woodlands. The forest was incredibly thick from its very origin with vines and bushes filling the spaces between the massive trees. Many of the bushes were putting up a natural defense with thorns or rash-causing resins preventing easy passage.
“Have you ever been in there?” Lambo gestured toward the dark barrier. He took a bite of cornbread, appearing relaxed.
“I trekked into the woods as a youth,” Droth admitted, rubbing the stubble that had grown on his jaw. “Within the military, it was a sign of strength if you slept alone in this forest for even one night.” His three Dobermans circled around him and sat at attention on their haunches. Occasionally they glanced at the woods, growling low with a deep rumble as if they knew of some menace close at hand.
“One night?” Lambo pressed his lips together tightly and stared at the obstacle before them. Orel sat on his shoulder, preening his wings.
Droth studied the dark trees. “I also went on a mission with one of Samil’s squads to guide a group of half-deads into the forest.”
“You’ve always loved the half-deads,” Lambo joked. He ran a hand along Orel’s scales.
Droth wrinkled his nose in disgust at the thought of half-deads. He squatted and placed another log on their fire. “We only went about a day’s journey into the forest before they were picked up by more of their kind.” Protecting the creatures had seemed insane at the time. His dogs came to him. They stretched out by the fire, panting softly.
“This is one dense mass of trees.” If Lambo was nervous about their upcoming mission, he was giving no sign of it. He appeared more excited as he stood and poked at the branches near to them with his sword, checking for a path. Droth watched him attempt to stick his head between a mass of low hanging branches, only to be met by teeming brambles. “No way to get in here.” Lambo called back to Droth. “I think we’re stuck using one of the paths. Did our grand benefactor, Shadoe of the woods, give us any direction on returning his magestones?”
“His kingdom, unfortunately, is near the center of this foul place.” Droth poked at their cook fire and tongues of flames leapt eagerly toward the sky. Over the fire he placed a skewer with the chunks of rabbit that his Dobermans had caught. “Thank goodness we have your bondsmate to guide our path.”
Lambo nodded. “See if you can find us a passage, my friend.” Lambo sent Orel into the air and the eagle soared upwards as Lambo shut his eyes to focus on the visual input coming his way. Droth knew he was absorbing information from his link.
I wish you could also fly, Droth whispered to Arn, who was perched on a low tree. Droth went to him and stroked the feathers of his bondsmate. He picked up a water skin and poured water into a cup to allow Arn to drink.
“Orel can see scattered portions of the terrain through the trees,” Lambo spoke in a low voice as the furrows in his brow lengthened. “There are trails entering the forest every few leagues. Many lead to small camps with clusters of half-deads along the byways, but one larger path extending toward the center of the forest looks clear. The passage begins a short distance to the east.” Orel returned to land on Lambo’s shoulder.
“Tomorrow then.” Droth swirled the liquid in his waterskin thoughtfully, listening to the noises coming from the woods. The branches in their fire spit embers and crackled happily as drops of liquid from the skewer of meat dripped steadily into the roaring heat. Droth gave the first portions of meat to their bondsmates and to his Dobermans. Then he passed Lambo a portion of his meal and the young man smiled happily as grease ran down his chin while he chewed contentedly. “Our last night of sleep before we step into our own fire,” Droth spoke in a hushed voice. The flames threw shadows on the trees, making them writhe and dance, appearing almost like great living things. Droth slept fitfully that night, dreaming disturbing visions of half-deads and death.
The two packed up their camp in the morning and began to hike in the direction of the passageway, guided by Orel who rose and descended gracefully over their heads. Lambo didn’t even flinch as the bird completed a skillful touch down on his shoulder just before they entered the dim light. The two had worked together many years and were seamless in their actions.
“Do you think we’ll have many battles with the half-deads?” Droth wasn’t surprised that he could hear a new trace of concern in his nephew’s voice. Half-deads were the evil creatures in every story and every scary fairytale told to youngsters on Acacia. They were the monster under the bed, the ghost in the closet.
“We will assuredly battle with them,” Droth answered honestly. “I think we’re up for the challenge, but if you don’t want to travel with me through this cursed forest, I understand. Take Orel and go back to the Bird’s Nest. I’ll meet you there when I return.”
“You offend me, uncle.” Lambo couldn’t help smiling while attempting to answer in an injured tone. “I’m not leaving my family … to me there is nothing as important. What is your quote from Earth?”
“Blood is thicker than water,” Droth answered dryly.
“That’s the one. Blood is thicker than water. I just want you to grant me one wish.”
“And what wish is that?”
“I want Arn’s first flight to be launched from my arm.”
Droth clapped his nephew on the shoulder. “I would be honored to have you launch Arn into the air for his initial take-off.” Droth once again stroked the feathers and light scales of his eagle. I hope that our dream becomes a reality.
If we continue to believe, while staying wise and cautious, I think we have a chance at completing this mission, Arn whispered.
“Let’s get moving.” Lambo drew his sword and pointed it to the sky. “Half-deads beware!” The two continued along the path viewed by Orel and a coldness began to creep up their legs. Light still filtered through the branches, but it was now much darker and the temperature continued to lower. “Maybe I should go back,” Lambo teased. “It’s kind of dark and chilly in here.”
“This is going to be a most interesting adventure,” Droth said quietly.
* * *
Droth and Lambo were two weeks into their journey through the forest and although they were tired and hungry, they were becoming skilled at avoiding clusters of roving half-deads. All at once, Xeno, Xander, and Xanthus froze, but they weren’t growling.
“I think your Dobermans smell something.” Lambo studied the three black dogs. Droth’s Dobermans would whine and growl when half-deads were in their area and the small group would hide in the dense underbrush until the area was clear.
“Interesting.” Droth halted their squad and set Arn on the highest branch he could reach. Arn had the best eyesight in the group. Even from a shoulder position, the eagle noticed subtle changes in the forest—broken twigs, the bones of a meal, rapid movements, all caught the bird’s attention. He alternated standing sentinel with Orel at night. “I’m amazed that there’s so many half-deads in these woods,” Droth said.
“A change from your last visit to these beautiful parts of Acacia?” Lambo asked with a jesting tone.
“The elves used to
dominate these woods, and now it appears it’s the other way around. I can’t believe the elven scouting parties aren’t clearing the vermin out.” Droth frowned. “I hope at least there will be a few elven squads when we get closer to the area around Shadoe’s fortress.” Arn didn’t notice anything out of sorts, and he picked him back up and placed him on his shoulder.
They continued along the trails and were almost to the center of the woods when they entered a small glade where several rays of early morning sunlight were penetrating down through the thick canopy. The wind whistled through the leaves in a long sigh and the branches murmured and creaked. Droth turned to study his Dobermans who now began a low menacing growl as the birdsongs in the forest ceased.
“I’m going to send up Orel.” Lambo sent his eagle into the branches above while closing his eyes to concentrate on the input. “Three separate bands of half-deads are approaching,” Lambo began in a rushed and worried voice. “There’s no way to avoid them. We need to hide.”
Moving hastily, they found a dark place in the shadows, deep in a thicket. The three platoons of half-deads swiftly converged in the woods just adjacent to their hiding spot: a group of gnomes, a squad of shades, and a pack of were-creatures. Each had a leader who did most of the talking.
“How do the preparations go?” the shade asked. He wore a long travel-stained silver cloak over a steel breastplate that was pock-marked by scores of battles, and a double-bladed axe across his back, with the blade glinting in the small amount of light.
“Organized chaos,” the gnome answered with a nasty chuckle. “The attacks will begin soon and there’s no way Shadoe will survive this battle.” He shifted the position of a mud-splattered leather backpack and adjusted a worn metal pick and shovel that were hooked into his pack. “Maaca has called all of the half-deads in the entire forest. Everyone’s assembling.”
