Power of the Dragon (The Chronicles of Dragon, Series 2, Book 9 of 10): Dragon Fantasy Series (Tail of the Dragon)

by Craig Halloran

  CHAPTER 10

  Sasha gracefully came to her feet. “You wouldn’t happen to be one of them, would you, Inslay?

  “Heavens no, and it’s Adept Master Inslay. I couldn’t have been more proud of him. After all, I was his teacher.”

  Nath moved aside. Tears welled in Sasha’s eyes. “Master Inslay, perhaps you don’t know, but Bayzog was murdered by the titan Tylabahn.”

  The sharp features in Inslay’s face softened. He scratched his cheek. “Are you certain?”

  “I could only dream that I was wrong,” she said.

  “That’s a shame. A shame indeed.” Inslay took her hand. “You are very warm. It’s no surprise why Bayzog was drawn to you. And both of his sons show his prominent features.” He shook his head. “I just find it so hard to believe he’s dead. He was special.”

  Rerry and Samaz crowded Inslay when he sat down. “Tell us about the staff. How did Father acquire it?” Rerry asked.

  “Well, it was quite a feat.” Inslay’s eyes brightened. “You see, the Elderwood Staff is precisely what its name says: a staff made from Elderwood. You’ve heard of Elderwood, haven’t you, Nath Dragon?”

  Nath shook his head no. “I only know of the staff.”

  “My apologies, your majesty. Perhaps it was your father I was thinking of. You remind me so much of him.”

  “I know of the woodland of which you speak,” Selene said. “As I understand it, the Elder Woods were destroyed in an age before the first dragon wars. Some of the wood was used for weapons, but almost all of it was burned. There are few remnants of the wood left. That staff is the only sample I’ve ever seen of it.”

  Inslay cleared his throat. “You are very correct, Selene. Yes, the Elderwood Trees thrived in a small grove far south of Dragon Home. The elves were some among many guardians of the unique timber. More often than not, they all fought over it. You see, Elderwood could store magic. It was priceless. But I myself never laid eyes on those trees. They’ve been gone since before I was young. But my mother said there was nothing like them, so tall and white, with leaves as beautiful as butterfly wings. The wood, well…” He stretched out his finger and touched the staff. “It’s smooth and harder than steel, yet living. You, young Samaz, can you feel its power?”

  Samaz frowned. “It feels like a fine stick to me.” He leaned closer to Inslay. “Please, tell me how Father came by it.”

  “The staff is a remnant of another age. Like many such items in the elves’ possession, it has been long preserved, protected, much like the Occular of Orray. However, in this particular case, the reason it was preserved was because no one could harness its power.” Inslay chuckled. “You see, I’d even tried it myself. Much like with you, Samaz, it didn’t work for me. But don’t be discouraged.”

  “It makes perfect sense to me that elves made something that didn’t work,” Brenwar said. “The dwarves never have that problem.”

  “Of course not, Warlord Bolderguild. Dwarves are oblivious to anything they do wrong. For obvious reasons.”

  “You got that right,” Brenwar said. “Er, hold on a moment. Say that again. It sounded like a jab.”

  Aside from Inslay and Brenwar, everyone fought back a smile.

  Inslay held up his finger. “But you are mistaken, my dwarven ally, just as the elves were for centuries. You see, we always believed the staff was elven in origin. Do you see that spindle of woodwork webbing, which holds the stone within?” All eyes fell on the staff. “One would swear that was elven, but it’s not. Nor could it be. We don’t know who made it for certain, as the staff was discovered by accident. Elven pioneers found it in the Lost City of Borgash. It lay in an ancient hoard, guarded by a dragon known as Dark Wyrm the Hungry.” Inslay gave Nath a glance. “Ever hear of him?”

  Nath nodded. “Yes, he was one of the bad ones.”

  “That’s an understatement. He ate elves like a halfling eating bits of candy. Dark Wyrm, every bit as grand as he was gory, sucked elven flesh right off the bones. He devastated Elome for centuries, snatching men, women, even the children. None could oppose him. He came without warning or cause, with years spanning between. Finally, a knot of willing elves—and one particularly brave dragon—tracked the flesh eater back to his burrowed lair deep in Borgash. The fight went on for days. The elves prevailed and found the staff among the treasure. Again, it was believed to be elven, but none could master it.”

  With his fingers clutching the staff, Samaz pleaded, “How did my father come by it, Adept Master Inslay? Please.”

  “Oh yes, well, every decade, elven masters of magic such as I and your father would have a tournament at the end of the sessions.” Inslay fiddled with the buttons that dangled from his sleeves. “Every class had top students held in high regard. Your father, of course, was one of them. And make no mistake, despite the human portion of his heritage, he was treated quite well by the others. If anything, I believe many elves were jealous of his abilities. Bayzog, though silent, had great passion that burned down deep. He grasped that his days were limited and didn’t take time for granted like the elves.

  “So, the tournament came and all of the elven masters attended. It was ceremonial but still dangerous. The victor’s spoils was the opportunity to grasp the Elderwood Staff, a chance at possessing its power. Up to then, not one elf had been able to draw a wink from it. As a matter of fact, a chance at the staff had become more of a ploy than anything else, to get adepts to work harder. The elder mages had pretty much given up on ever using the power.

  “Finally, the tournament was on, and to no one’s surprise, it came down to two young and very talented adepts: your father and Sindahl Suhn. Truthfully, Sindahl held the edge. His arcane bloodline ran back for centuries. It’s older than mine. So, it came down to the two of them. The final contest was drawn from a chalice of marked stones.” Inslay chuckled. “It was arm wrestling, the crudest test of them all. A test of will, stamina, and strength.”

  Rerry’s chest puffed out.

  “Don’t be so confident yet, Bayzog’s son. You see, at this point in the contest, both Bayzog and Sindahl were mentally and physically exhausted.” Inslay touched Samaz’s shoulder. “And it wasn’t all about that brawny meat, either. There is a spell that allows you to enhance the physical limitations of your body. I cast it on both of them and let them go at it. No, in the end, it was a matter of who had enough left.”

  CHAPTER 11

  “Father won, didn’t he?” Rerry said, wiping the sweat from his upper lip. “Didn’t he?”

  Inslay made a fist. “They locked hands. Elbows hit the table. Sindahl wasn’t of slight build, either. No, he was taller than most. He matched up well with young Bayzog. I’d never seen Bayzog tired before. He’d barely made it to the final test, struggling in all of his matches. Sindahl, however, didn’t have any trouble at all. His blue eyes were still full of energy. He was fresh. I was proud of Bayzog, but I didn’t envision him going any farther. The Suhns had never lost.”

  Everyone present hung on every word the elder elf said, even Brenwar.

  “They locked eyes. Clenched fists. I gave the signal. Their arms glowed with light of their own. Back and forth they went, but before long, Bayzog’s arm was bent back toward the table. Sindahl’s eyes lit up in victory. The next thing I knew—wham!” Inslay clapped his hands together. “Bayzog had pinned Sindahl down! It came out of nowhere. The shock, the dismay on Sindahl’s—on everyone’s face, even my own—must have been priceless. I’d never seen the Suhns so unsettled before. You see, your father, Bayzog, was bluffing. He played it close the entire way through, and when the moment came, he seized it.”

  “So he won the staff!” Rerry eased back with a smile on his face.

  Samaz was breathing heavily.

  “Well, not right away. Bayzog was accused of deception, or bluffing. Of course, there was no way to prove it. And why would anyone risk it against the likes of a Suhn? That would be foolish, but he did it. I know he did. Finally, after days of deliberation—
”

  “Days?” Samaz said.

  “You know how elves are. We take our time about everything.”

  “Especially telling stories,” Brenwar chimed in. He stretched his stumpy arms and yawned.

  “The elven council ruled in Bayzog’s favor, with some fierce deliberations on my behalf, mind you.” Inslay’s eyes rolled up in his head and back down. They flittered from side to side. “Sorry, I sense something, but that can wait. So, I had to convince them about the unlikelihood that Bayzog would be able to use the staff—or Sindahl, for that matter. They gave in. At the ceremony, Bayzog was brought forth to applause for his victory. The Elderwood Staff rested where it always did, lying on a slab of ivory. No one expected it to happen, but the moment his fingertip touched the staff, the jewel within lit up. No one alive at the time had ever seen this happen before.

  “Well, as you can imagine, the air left the room. So did the Suhns. They were furious. All of them felt that it was Sindahl’s power to possess, but I know better. It was destiny. You see, that staff takes great power to wield. But it takes something else as well—which I believe is a heart both human and elven. The Elderwood Staff was created by unbiased cooperation. It comes from a time when all the races—the good ones, that is—got along. It is a symbol of peace and power.”

  Samaz stiffened. His thick fingers stroked the smooth wood of the staff. “So only part elves can use it?”

  “Or part men. Other magical creatures perhaps. However, hardly anyone believes it. As soon as Bayzog acquired the staff, the Suhns’ campaign against him began. They were very powerful. They ran Bayzog off. They were just not able to come to terms with him having the staff and not their cherished son. But he wouldn’t have been able to use the staff anyway. It’s a shame.”

  “Poor Bayzog,” Sasha said with her head sagging. “He never told me. He was so quiet about such things.”

  “No, he wouldn’t complain. Instead, he chose to use the staff for the benefit of all. That, he did.” Inslay patted Sasha’s knee. “As you well know, he was special.” He turned to Samaz. “I pray that staff will serve you as well, but one never knows. Such rare items tend to have minds of their own.”

  “You can say that again.” Nath leaned Fang against the stone. “Be sure to honor them as much as any other friends.”

  Laylana returned. “I’ve met with the council.”

  “That was fast. What did they say?” Nath asked.

  “They would like to deliberate with you, your majesty, and you alone.”

  “Lead the way,” he said.

  With his chin resting on his skeleton hand, Brenwar grumbled, “See you when the war’s over, if even that soon. Hmph.”

  CHAPTER 12

  The Land of Dim Light. That was what people called the portal between the real world of Nalzambor and the Dark Realm where Nath’s father Balzurth was.

  Other life forms thrived in the Land of Dim Light. Most of them weren’t really people at all. People had bodies, touchable and tangible. Instead, vaporous beings moved through the grim and bitter landscape that seemed the opposite of Nalzambor. The trees bore no leaves. There was no sun, only a distant dreary citrine-sage light for illumination.

  The ground was soft dirt and brown grass. There were few colors that blossomed in the thickets and vegetation. The tree bark was harsh and gray. No birds flew among the trees. Everything lived, yet it appeared to be dead as driftwood that had washed up from the river.

  Day and night—though it wasn’t possible to determine which was which—evil was calling. Wailing. Shrieking. Howling. The vaporous spirits glided through the miserable world, hungry and unhappy. They sought anything they could devour in the dark and depraved lonely place. Every so often, people of flesh made it into the world. Even if they survived the torment of the spirits, they thrived little, struggling for some semblance of peace that they yearned for on Nalzambor. Banished from the world above, the ones with flesh tried to cling together.

  Rip Tippy was such a man. He’d burrowed inside the hollow core of a tree to shield himself from the chronic chill in his bones. He hid from the evil threats of the spirits that roamed between one world and another. He’d been in the Land of the Dim Light for a time that was impossible to remember.

  The wailing in the winds came and went. The vaporous shades, searching for flesh and meat, moved on, rustling the dry branches they passed.

  Rip Tippy stepped out of his hiding place. A constant mist swirled at his feet. His haggard face displayed a beard to his chest. The color of his eyes was hard to make out on account of the strange light. He wore the armor of a legionnaire. The leather on the breast plate straps was rotting. He had one set of thigh and shin guards left. His scabbard and belt looked like something a giant moth had eaten. The pommel of a sword, appearing black in color, was still stuffed in it.

  There was a ceiling of clouds thicker than smoke that rolled high overhead.

  Looking up, he spoke in a voice as polished as the finest metal. “Today is the day, perhaps.”

  Bayzog crawled out of the core of an oak that lay on the ground. He wiped the grit from his eyes and tousled his hair, which ran down to his waistline. “If we only knew whether it was a new day or not.”

  “Every time we avoid those shades, it’s a new day by my account. What do you make of it, Bayzog? I don’t see any holes in the mist this day.”

  Bayzog dusted himself off even further. His robes were in worse shape than Rip Tippy’s armor. The hems were torn and loose. “No, but shades are still circling this area. They know better than we when a portal is opening. Trust me, I saw it.”

  “By my guess, I’ve been here a fair bit longer than you, but I never picked up on such things. I suppose I’ve been wandering around like a fool all this time.” Rip scratched the corner of his mouth with a fingertip exposed through a chewed-up leather glove. “I admit though, I’m glad you showed up. So many of the others I came across have been nothing but fruitless. Do you really think we can make it out of this mind-numbing Abaddon?”

  “I’d have my doubts if I hadn’t seen it for myself.” Eyes upward, Bayzog moved through the desolate woodland. “There’s always a way out of anything.”

  “I don’t know about that, but at least you’ve given me something to believe in. Glad you’re here, Bayzog, even though it is to your detriment.”

  Bayzog had been trapped in the Land of the Dim Light ever since the staagan threw the Elderwood Staff into the Well from Nowhere. The moment he landed, he had searched for the Elderwood Staff. He had soon found a part elf like himself who had taken possession of the staff. Somehow, that part elf had absorbed Bayzog’s identity. A fierce battle had ensued that drew the attention of the shades. Unfamiliar with the forces in the Land of Dim Light, Bayzog had retreated in hopes of fighting again. Before he got the chance, however, his doppelganger, aided by the staff, had found a portal back to Nalzambor and escaped before the flesh-hungry shades devoured him.

  That was when Rip Tippy and Bayzog, along with a few others that walked with flesh and blood, had crossed paths. They’d stayed together for a time, fleeing and surviving, then been split up. Some of them hadn’t made it.

  The Land of Dim Light was unending. Being so vast, there was room to find refuge from the shades. Sometimes communities were born, but they never lasted long. Bayzog spent his time getting familiar with the world. He’d finally been able to harness its unusual powers. Now, he stored up everything he had for the moment when true light within the clouds came.

  “I never thought seeking out the enemy would give us the doorway we needed,” Rip said. “All this time, I’ve just been running. I should have known better. The only way I’ve ever known to victory was through fighting… one way or the other.”

  “If we didn’t fight the good fight, there would be nothing left to fight for.” The ground shook beneath their feet. Bayzog’s hairs stood on end.

  “What in the shades was that?” Rip slowly spun in his spot, drawing his sword. “Th
e entire world just shook.”

  Bayzog took cover in a cleft. Rip did the same. A humongous vapor form that crackled with energy tore through the fabric of space and time, a horrendous beast with great horns, wavering in and out. Countless shades appeared out of nowhere. They flocked to the monstrous form. Its great head lingered.

  Rip’s eyes bulged.

  Bayzog’s heart trembled.

  It can’t be! He’s alive! Gorn Grattack!

  CHAPTER 13

  It had been two days, and Nath still hadn’t returned from his meeting with the High Council. In the meantime, everyone seemed to be making the most of it. Rerry and Ben ate heartily. The both of them enjoyed the company of the refined elven women who refilled their plates. Sasha and Samaz spent the majority of their time in Inslay’s company. The elder mage was a chatterbox when it came to talking about the craft with them.

  Selene sat away from the conversation, but not too far away. What Inslay had to say piqued her interest as much as any. Nibbling on a morsel of cheese, she tuned in when Sasha asked, “Inslay, does that invisible barrier encompass the whole of Elome? It must be so vast.”

  “Dear Sasha, as much as my pride in the elven heritage would relish taking credit for it, I fear that is not the case.” He looked around. There weren’t any other elves within earshot. He eased a little. “I probably shouldn’t share this, the council’s noses would turn inside out, but I feel compelled to share. Those barriers are not permanent. They don’t surround all of Elome by any stretch of the imagination. But that’s all part of the deception. The enemy believes we’re surrounded by that invisible wall.

  “What we have managed to do is focus our energies wherever the titan army attacks. The soldiers in the field alert the likes of me, much like they warned us of your coming. I raise the spell.” He gesticulated with his hands, like he was moving pieces on a game board. “The barrier moves from spot to spot, wherever it is needed, by my power and that of many others. For the lack of a better word, it’s a bluff. So far, the titan army has been ignorant enough to fall for it. It’s quite a delight seeing them be so ignorant, actually.”