Dark Hope of the Dragons (Elysium's Fall Book 1)

by Nikki Mccormack

  “You did this,” he stated in a voice torn by his sorrow.

  Siniva only stared back at him, unable to deny the words.

  “Please. Take me too. I don’t want to go on without them.”

  Siniva still held his silence and turned to gaze back down the main street as the tears continued to run down his face unchecked. A few moments later, the man walked past him, heading down the street completely naked. Siniva was weary from all the power he had drawn upon, but he was not about to deny this man his request. Pulling on all the remaining power he could, his chest twisting with a fresh swell of hatred for himself and his elders, the Fire Dragon focused his skill upon the departing figure. Flames pulled in from both sides of the street and engulfed the man.

  He made no sound that could be heard over the roar of the fire.

  Glancing down, Siniva regarded the shepherd’s clothes, a sort of morbid offering in exchange for the favor he had asked. He put on the pants, which were several inches too short, and the boots, which were a touch tight. The shirt did not fit at all, so he fed it to the flames. As he turned away from the fire, Siniva began to sing one of the ballads he remembered a young village girl singing in the graveyard. It spoke of a love that lasted beyond life and he hoped it brought as much peace to the dead as it once had to him. His voice, deep as the wind and elegant as a well-played harp, rose up strong over the sounds of the fire.

  CHAPTER FORTY ONE

  Even seated upon his proud stallion in the surprising brightness of a new morning, Dephithus could feel his confidence drifting away like dead leaves in the wind. Before him the gaping maw of darkness beckoned, daring him, almost mocking him with its ominous blackness. He had been in caves before. Mostly lava tubes around Dalynay as a young boy. Many times, he and Myara had gotten in considerable trouble for wandering into such places alone. Once a rescue party had even hauled them out after spending most of the night in one such lava cave, though they had never once admitted to being lost.

  This time, his beloved Myara and their child had been taken in and he meant to go bring them out, but his nerves were failing him. It was unlikely that death would let him cheat it twice and he was certain that death hid somewhere within that darkness. If only he could avoid it. Vanuthan would not be flying in to revive him this time. She was trapped in her new prison and it was his child the dragons wanted now. Not him. There was no more reason to keep him around once his child was free.

  As his feet touched the ground next to Hydra, Dephithus was struck with a sense of panic. Taking hold of the saddle with both hands he steadied himself. All he really wanted at that moment was for this nightmare to be over. The life he had once known was destroyed, thanks in large part to the man who travelled with him, and he had missed out on nearly five years already. Now it seemed he was riding a fast course toward missing out on the rest. How had all of this happened?

  The answer was simple. The daenox and the dragons had caused all this suffering in their careless efforts to be free. Of course, it went back even farther than that. Humankind had imprisoned them. Could they really be blamed for trying to be free again? What would happen if the dragons went free now? Would they help counter the chaos the daenox was creating? Or would they add to it?

  Dephithus could feel the daemon-seed pulsing bitterness through him. He would not consider leaving his child in captivity, even if the dragons did make things worse. Indeed, he could think of no more pleasing thing than to defy the daemon-seed and smother his child in all the love and kindness he possessed. Yet, that chance might never come to him even if he did manage to free them. He had to survive, and he had to convince Myara that he had a right to be a part of the child’s life, which he was not sure he did.

  Dephithus grimaced his distress at no one and leaned his cheek against Hydra’s neck in search of comfort. The stallion made a soft nickering sound and lowered his head to lip gently at his rider’s pants.

  “We should go in before I lose my nerve,” Rakas suggested, raw fear plain in his voice.

  Glancing at his undesirable companion, Dephithus saw that the man looked at least as nervous and out of sorts as he felt. “I haven’t found mine yet, and your being afraid of a place you used to live is certainly not helping.”

  Rakas managed a shaky grin, though his blackened eyes were locked upon the cave mouth. The welcoming mat of moss along the inner and outer edges of the opening created quite a contrast to the foreboding black of the unknown regions beyond. The entrance was perhaps two horses high and twice as long, which seemed a little backwards to Dephithus, but he was thinking in terms of a manmade doorway. The powers of nature that made this doorway were not concerned with catering to anyone.

  “I hope to see you soon,” he said to Hydra as he rubbed the stallion’s nose before joining Rakas at the edge of the darkness. “What about light?”

  Before Dephithus could hope that they might have to go back to the village to acquire some appropriate lighting, a sphere of pale light appeared in the air before them. The light brightened and dimmed and changed in size until it settled at a tolerable output level and a size just larger than a man’s fist.

  Dephithus gaped at the creation in surprise, but he noticed a problem with it as soon as Rakas began to walk in and the light accompanied him. “Wait.”

  Rakas stopped and glanced askance back at him.

  “What if something happens to you? I have no light.”

  Rakas sighed, his fear plain in his features even with the blackness of his strange eyes. Another sphere of light appeared next to Dephithus, and he felt as though someone were probing inside of his gut. The sensation passed quickly, but Dephithus snarled at Rakas and dropped his hand to the sword hilt.

  Rakas raised up his hands to ward him off. “I did not touch you. I simply linked the sphere to the daemon-seed so that it will not leave you even if I die.”

  Dephithus took a step toward him and there was subtle tugging in his gut as if there were a leash connecting him to the glowing ball. It was not unpleasant so much as it was simply a peculiar sensation. “How do I get rid of it if you die?”

  “Well, you can either die in the cave or it will fade away when you leave the cave again. Come on.”

  As Rakas turned away, Dephithus caught a glimpse of that old desire in his expression as well as the frustration it caused him. With a huff of pent up irritation, he followed the other man toward the darkness.

  They had barely gotten into the cool entrance, not yet beyond the reach of the light, when Rakas held a hand back toward him, motioning him to stop. Dephithus stopped and watched the other man who now had his head cocked slightly to one side as if listening for something.

  “What is it?”

  “It feels like—”

  Rakas was thrown aside like a ragdoll seconds before pain burst through Dephithus, seeming to come from somewhere inside him. He fell to his knees, the pain so excruciating he could not even voice a scream. It had taken his breath away.

  Amahna stepped out from the shadows.

  Not Amahna as he had last seen her.

  A long gash opened one cheek. The edges were blackened as though someone had burned it to stop the bleeding. One sleeve of her dress was torn and bloodied, revealing another series of deep, burned wounds, and there was blood around some holes in the torso of the dress. Her hair was a mess with a few twigs and leaves tangled in it and her eyes shone with a glee that bordered on madness.

  She walked over to him, one hand held in a fist in front of her, her teeth showing in a wild snarl. With her other hand, she grabbed Myara’s sword and yanked it from the sheath.

  “The great thing about the daemon-seed in you is how vulnerable it is to manipulation with the daenox.” She lowered her face closer to his. “So close only to die again and I will see to it that you don’t come back this time.”

  She backed up, raising the sword. From the angle of her position, she meant to behead him this time. That would make it harder to come back, even if Vanuthan were abl
e to help him.

  This would be the perfect time for Rakas to redeem himself. He could see the man in his periphery, however, and he was getting up slowly, shaking his head as if dazed. No help would come from that quarter. Not in time, at least. He was on his own, though not without options.

  Pain still wracked him, but he focused on the things that might save him. He looked at Amahna, at her hands on Myara’s blade, and rage swelled in him, reddening the edges of his vision. He embraced that rage. That unparalleled hatred for this woman who had brought about so much of his suffering. Of Myara’s suffering. Of his child’s suffering. A child he had never even laid eyes on and would not if he did not do something now. He let the anger sweep through him, feeding the daemon-seed. Giving it all the power it could want.

  Myara’s sword started to fall. Then, suddenly, the pain was gone. The daemon-seed was his power now. Dephithus grabbed the dagger at his belt and surged up under the path of the sword, slamming into Amahna and driving the dagger blade deep into her side. She cried out, her scream of pain bringing a pulse of pleasure deep within him. That was the daemon-seed, he knew, but right now he was willing to go along with it.

  The sword fell from her hands and he spun, catching the hilt before it hit the ground. He spun back as Amahna fell to her knees on the rough rock and raised the blade. Her hands were wrapped around the hilt of the dagger protruding from her side. Her eyes were wide with surprise.

  “You thought it was over, didn’t you?” he growled.

  Her eyes rose, not making it past his hands on the hilt of Myara’s sword. Her gaze then shifted toward Rakas who was walking over to them.

  “Help me.”

  Rakas placed a hand over the ring-shaped scar on his chest and backed away. Dephithus swung. The blade bit deep into the side of her neck, not quite cutting through. He pulled it back and she toppled over, her life bleeding away in the entrance of the cave.

  Dephithus turned to Rakas. The other man glanced down at Amahna with a pained expression and closed his eyes. Rage flowed, powerful and invigorating, through Dephithus, feeding the daemon-seed. He stared at Rakas, his hands tightening on the hilt.

  Dephithus closed his own eyes and took a deep, trembling breath. He turned from Rakas and cleaned the blade on Amahna’s tattered clothes. Then he made himself sheath it.

  “Let’s go.”

  CHAPTER FORTY TWO

  The cave was relatively plain for some distance. They traversed around several treacherous hidden pits that Rakas made visible for him. Dephithus could see no bottom to them.

  As they roamed deeper, he noticed the increasing strangeness of the surroundings. Peculiar formations of rock grew upon the walls, ceilings, and floors. Tooth-like formations grew up from the floors and down from the ceilings in varying lengths and thickness. Some even met in the middle, creating pillars that the light turned into serpent shadows on the uneven floor. Magnificent formations spilled off the walls, glossy with dampness, giving the illusion of living masses. In some areas the floor was of the same nature as those wall formations, and in others it was white and powdery. In the white areas there were numerous bush formations that seemed to be formed of a white crystal. And these were only a few of the wonders within the chambers and passages they traversed. In different circumstances, he would have liked to study these things more.

  In its strange way, the cave was beautiful. Unlike the lava caves he had been in, this vast cave was a haven of new colors and shapes. It was also distinctly more open than some of the lava caves. Though he did see many smaller passages that would require crawling or even squirming on one’s belly to get through, the direction they took never met such discomfort. As he gawked in wonder at a group of white crystal formations that dropped down from the ceiling Rakas hissed back at him.

  “Watch your step,” he snapped in a low voice.

  Glancing down in front of him Dephithus discovered he was about to walk heedlessly over the edge of a drop. It was only perhaps twenty or so feet to the next floor, but the possibility of such an unpleasant landing sent a small wash of energy through him, leaving him feeling even more on edge. He continued after Rakas, this time a bit more attentively.

  When they had been walking for what seemed an extraordinarily long time the spheres of light suddenly dimmed and Rakas turned back to him. With his finger on his lips, he expressed the need to be quiet.

  Dephithus nodded, seeing the pale light that came out of an opening just ahead of them. Peeking into the chamber, Rakas crept past the doorway and motioned Dephithus to follow. Dephithus began to comply, but he stopped a few inches past the edge of the doorway. Within the oddly illuminated chamber was a large pool surrounded by a stone shelf. Numerous people, most scarcely dressed, lounged around the pool gazing into the crystalline waters or engaged in intimate delights with one or more of their companions. With the sparkle of the water glinting off his silver-green eyes he was captured by the beauty of the room and understood instantly the desire to know pleasures on the shelves around that pool.

  “We do not help anyone by standing here trying to get caught,” Rakas hissed as quietly as possible.

  Dephithus nodded and lingered for a moment longer, then tore himself away from the utopian scene. Moving deeper into the cave, they entered a long, broken down group of passages. This section was no less amazing than the rest, for the cave had included the breakdown in its decorating. Younger formations hung down from the sides of large boulders already promising future magnificence.

  As he was admiring this creation process an icy heat moved through Dephithus, bringing with it an unpleasant ache of sorrow. A voice that seemed to come from all around as well as within him spoke.

  “Go, see your daughter. Then I will kill you, dragon-child. She will see you fail and despair.”

  Dephithus stopped, frozen to the spot by the chill of the voice. Rakas, realizing he was continuing alone, stopped and glanced back at him. Dephithus could not hide the fear from his face and Rakas looked concerned, though he had obviously not heard the same thing.

  He moved close and whispered, “What’s wrong?”

  “I heard a voice.” Dephithus replied, not concerned about how crazy that might sound.

  Rakas shrank before him. His whole carriage and demeanor deflated. “Theruses knows we are here.”

  Shaking off the chill, Dephithus forced himself to begin walking. “He will let me see her. If we can get that far, there is still a chance.”

  Rakas nodded, looking resigned, but his steps when he continued were strong and determined.

  What of Myara?

  Why had the voice had only mentioned his child, his daughter? A girl was good. Myara would like having a girl child to teach and to corrupt with her mischievous ways. He smiled inwardly, though there was also a sinking feeling in his chest as he did so.

  Realizing Rakas had gone on without him again, Dephithus began to follow the way the other man had headed. He took two steps and stopped again. Odd as it seemed, he was compelled to try a different direction. The feeling grew fast until it was overwhelming and Dephithus forgot his companion. Walking in the direction of the pull he came upon what appeared to be a dead end. Confused, he studied the area and discovered an opening at the bottom of the wall. As he dropped down to his hands and knees the scabbard hit the floor with a dull clank.

  Scowling, he glanced around the chamber uneasily then dropped more carefully on to his stomach and pulled himself through the opening. The sphere of light accompanied Dephithus, lighting the passage which rose up immediately to a crawling height. After several feet of crawling on the reasonably smooth stone, the small passage curved to the right and opened into a slightly larger room. It was about the size of a private bathing room, though the ceiling was low enough to keep him slightly bent over.

  Alongside of where he entered the chamber was a deep, clear pool. Dephithus took a moment to gaze down at the formations under the water before he looked around for where he was to go next. Across the pool fr
om him was a passage as tall as the room itself, though this was discouragingly not the way he was being drawn. Directly across from the passage he had come out of was another crawling passage. This was the one he needed to continue down. As he deliberated there, he wondered how long Hydra would wait for him. Hours? Days? He hoped that the stallion would not stay too long if he did not return within the day. Making sure the scabbard touched down gently this time, he returned to his hands and knees and moved on.

  For at least twenty feet Dephithus continued on his hands and knees, then the passage closed down more and he was forced to squirm along on his stomach. It did not take long for him to start feeling the effort of this awkward movement in his muscles. It occurred to him that this might just seal off and he would have to back out on elbows and knees that were already feeling tender. It seemed like this dreadful passage might go on forever when he finally saw a larger area ahead at the edge of the light’s reach. Dephithus focused his full attention on moving as fast as he could toward this new opening. The reckless effort won him several lumps on his unprotected head and he was developing a headache by the time he poked out of the hole.

  The headache was suddenly the least of his worries.

  In his careless rush to get out of the confining belly crawl, Dephithus had failed to consider that this new area might be occupied. He emerged lying vulnerable in the face of a twisted daemon-beast with his head and arms sticking out and the rest of his body, including his weapons, still in the crawlway. The beast, which was vaguely dog-like in form, looked as if its skin were slowly melting away. The fleshy lips around its mouth appeared to have already sloughed off, leaving its teeth bared in a permanent snarl. The creature put its nose in front of his and emitted a gurgling growl.

  As Dephithus tried to search his panicked mind for some way out, the compulsion that had drawn him here vanished. At the same moment, the daemon-beast raised its head and peered down one of the passages leaving this chamber. Seeming to have forgotten him, it turned and loped away in that direction. Dephithus pulled himself quickly from the hole and stood up. The overhang he had failed to notice put an abrupt stop to his standing and the force of the impact dropped him back down on his knees. He knelt there with his hand to his head and struggled to fight off the pain.