Dragon Slayer 2_A Pulp Fantasy Harem Adventure

by Michael-Scott Earle

  Then a drum began playing a slow beat. Quiet at first but growing louder with each thump. A flute added its high-pitched notes to form a simple melody, then a twanging stringed instrument joined in. Voices whispered a chant so quiet at first, I thought it was the wind, but then it slowly grew louder.

  “In the beginning, there was nothing.” Voices, two or three of them at least, seemed to echo in the temple chamber, though where they were coming from I couldn’t tell. “Chaos ruled the universe, and life did not exist. Until the Three. They created the world Agreon from that emptiness, and mankind with it.”

  Light flared to life at the base of one side of the triangular pillar. A faint blue glow lit the features carved into the black stone and the hooded figure before it.

  “From the spark of her divinity,” the voice of a young woman echoed from within the hood, “Noble Merallia created the sun to light the day and the moon to shine at night.”

  Something about the throbbing pulse of the music and the dramatic flair of the ceremony drew me in immediately.

  Green light flared on the other side of the triangular pillar and revealed a second hooded figure.

  “Wise Roassa knew both could not share the heavens at once,” said the woman within the hood, this one with a deeper resonance, “so she created time to mark the passage of the heavenly bodies. In her wisdom, she understood mankind would need more than just the strength of their arms and the keenness of their minds. Divine fortune was her gift to the men and women that worshipped her.”

  This time, I was ready when the purple light brightened the third side of the pillar.

  “Gentle Avennya saw that mankind could not bear the burden of existence forever, as she and her sisters did,” said the third hooded woman. Her voice sounded much older though it echoed with the same strength. “With the gift of life, she gave another, the gift of death.”

  “In all things,” the three said in unison, “there must be balance.”

  The people all around me echoed the words. “There must be balance.”

  The first woman began to dance, a lively, sensuous swaying of her hips, chest, and shoulders that reminded me of Arabic belly dancing. It was incredibly sexy, and the pulsing rhythm of the music held me spellbound.

  The second started to dance as well, but her movements lacked the sprightly sexuality of the first. Instead, she had the grace of maturity, a sense of belonging in the world around her.

  The third and oldest joined in, and her steps were slow, graceful, seemingly ageless. She represented the wisdom of age, the understanding of the natural order, and an acceptance of the way things were.

  “Sun and Moon, Time and Fortune, Life and Death,” the three chanted as they swayed to the music. “There must be balance.”

  “There must be balance,” I found myself repeating with the rest of the people in the temple.

  The chanting voices grew louder in time with the music, and the drumbeat rose to a pulsing, throbbing tempo that was only heightened by the trilling flute and the fast plucking of the stringed instrument in the darkness.

  “Merallia, Goddess of Sun and Moon!” The young woman threw her slim arms upward, her face tilted toward the heavens. “Shine your light on us and guide us through the dark paths before us.”

  The people chanted the words in time with the pounding music, and I did likewise.

  “Roassa, Goddess of Time and Fortune!” The middle-aged woman did likewise. “Guard the passage of time and smile on our endeavors.”

  The words poured from my mouth with a force beyond my control.

  “Avennya, Goddess of Life and Death.” The elderly priestess added her voice to the chanting. “Hold our lives in the palm of your hand and prepare our way to join you once the end comes to claim us.”

  Everything fell suddenly silent, and the lights around the pillars died. Slowly, the lamps ringing the chamber came back to life and filled the room with a soft glow. Though my mind told me only ten or fifteen minutes had passed, it felt like I’d been sitting in place for an hour. I felt drained, exhausted. Whatever had happened in that short amount of time had been truly powerful indeed.

  The three priestesses drew back their hoods. One was a grey-haired woman that looked to be eighty or ninety years old. The second, the one nearest me, was a middle-aged woman who wore her hair close-cropped, with the entire right side of her head shaved to the scalp. I caught the barest glimpse at the final priestess, a woman who couldn’t be older than nineteen or twenty.

  The priestesses moved among the guests, and I saw them making that three-fingered blessing gesture Danikel made earlier. The middle-aged woman greeted People’s Councilor Danikel with warm familiarity and smiled at the surly teenager and Captain Daxos.

  “Roassa smiled on Jian today,” Danikel said with tears in his eyes. “By the Goddess’ grace, she will make a full recovery.”

  “Goddess be praised,” the priestess said, and she repeated the blessing gesture along with Danikel, his wife, and Captain Daxos. Then she turned to the captain. “I will pray for Roassa’s fortune to smile on you in your mission, captain. May you bring honor to your family and all of Windwall.”

  “Thank you, Priestess Quailu.” Captain Daxos swept a deep bow to the middle-aged woman.

  I found myself at a loss for words as the priestess turned to me. What did one say to such a revered person?

  Her gaze pierced mine, and I saw an ageless wisdom in her eyes.

  “Come, Sir Ethan Dragonrider,” she said. “Follow me to the inner sanctum. We have much to tell you.”

  With that, she turned and strode away.

  Chapter Six

  The command in her voice caught me off-guard, but I recovered after a moment and hurried after her with Irenya and Arieste beside me. We followed the priestess toward what appeared to be a shadowed section of the circular chamber, and as we drew closer, I realized it wasn’t shadows but a darkened hallway. I had to duck my head to enter, and my shoulders barely fit in the tight space.

  The corridor ran for five yards before it twisted to the right. Once I turned the corner, I found myself in a normal-sized hallway made of the same black stone as the rest of the temple. The priestess stopped at an open door and beckoned for me to follow her into what looked like a bedroom.

  The room within was small but comfortably furnished, with a king-sized bed covered in velvet pillows, a soft couch, and a round dining table with four chairs. This wasn’t one of the religions that deprived their followers of small luxuries, and I kind of liked the spartan setting.

  “Come, have a seat,” Priestess Quailu said as she gestured to the dining table.

  I hesitated a moment before taking the seat. I didn’t know what to expect from a priestess, especially one that somehow knew my name, and I felt a strange power come from her.

  “It is good of you to bring your dragons,” the priestess said as she studied Arieste and Irenya with an enigmatic smile. “I trust they will serve you well in your exploration of Ironfast.”

  “Okay,” I said, throwing up my hands, “how are you doing that?”

  “Doing what?” she asked, and I saw the corner of her mouth twitch.

  “Did the council tell you what my intentions are?” I asked. “Or is one of your goddesses actually speaking with you?”

  Priestess Quailu laughed, a high, melodious sound. “No, Sir Ethan, our Goddesses have not spoken to us in many centuries. Councilor Danikel came to speak with my sisters and me earlier. He told me all about you and the mission into Ironfast.”

  “Ahh,” I said as I smiled along with her. “And I guess you saw my display with Arieste in the courtyard, too?”

  “No,” said the priestess, and the enigmatic smile returned. “I felt the magic running through them and their tether to you.”

  “Tether to me?”

  “Yes,” Quailu said with a little nod. “You are the source of their magic now. As long as they remain near you, they will have their powers. If they leave your side…” She
trailed off and shrugged.

  I looked at the women beside me, and I saw the truth written in Arieste’s eyes. She’d been around me for weeks, so she had to have put the pieces together. But that information left me with a new doubt. Did she stay with me because she wanted to, or because of the magic?

  The priestess’ eyes went to the door behind me. “Captain Daxos, step closer,” she said, with a little beckoning motion. “The information I have to share now will benefit you as well, given the role you will play in Sir Ethan’s quest.”

  I turned and found Captain Daxos hesitating at the door to the priestess’ chamber. He must have followed us into the tunnel yet hadn’t entered out of fear or respect. At Quailu’s words, he strode toward the table and stood between Irenya and Arieste. His back was straight and his stance upright, but I could see the nervousness in his eyes.

  “You seek the Circlet of Darksight to defeat the dragon Emroth,” the priestess said in the same strong voice that seemed to set the walls echoing. “A noble quest, but one fraught with many perils. First, you must pass the door sealed from within, which only magic may open.” She turned to me with a smile. “Your powers will serve as the key.”

  I felt relief at hearing the words. I’d been confident that I could get into the door, but hearing it confirmed somehow lifted a burden from my shoulders.

  “Once the door is unlocked, it cannot be closed again.” The priestess’ expression sobered, and a shadow passed over her eyes. “Many wizards bled and died to seal that portal, but the demon Vozaath proved stronger in the end. It will sense your presence and will know when the seal is broken. You must defeat the demon, or else all of Windwall and the world at large will suffer its wrath.”

  “I’ve got just the team for the job,” I said with a grin, and I jerked a thumb at Arieste and Irenya.

  “Your dragons may prove useful, but they alone will not prevail.” The priestess closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath as if seeing a vision from her goddess. “The Goddesses have shown me the truth. To defeat the demon, you require both courage and cunning, magic and might.”

  I leaned forward, eager to hear her words. The more information she offered, the easier it would be to deal with Vozaath. The demon was just the first of two problems I had to deal with to save Windwall. Once that was done, I still had to figure out how to defeat Curym and Zaddrith if I wanted to save Whitespire and all the humans on Iriador.

  “The wizards of old believed their magic more potent than the strength of their warriors, but that pride proved their undoing,” the priestess said in a ringing voice. “Wizards are not warriors, and warriors cannot wield magic. Yet, to defeat Vozaath, the two must be united.”

  “How?” I asked.

  “Vozaath’s flesh is unlike anything on this world,” she continued. “It is resistant to magic, and thus magic will do little more than a flea gnawing on an elephant. Indeed, hurling magic at it will only make it stronger. It feeds on the life force of the magic, fueling the cells of its demonic body to grow stronger.”

  “Ughh,” I sighed. Her words didn’t sound encouraging, but that was fine. I was used to dealing with difficult problems.

  “But mortal weapons,” the priestess continued, “weapons of iron and steel and wood, have no life within them. They are inert, lifeless, and thus have no force for Vozaath to absorb. These mortal weapons can damage the demon’s flesh as surely as they can damage yours or mine.”

  Her eyes flashed open, and her hand darted out as quick as a striking serpent to stab at my chest with a long-nailed finger.

  “The heart is the weakness!” she cried. “Cut open the flesh, reveal the heart, and use the power of your magic to destroy it.”

  “But you just said magic won’t destroy the demon’s flesh,” I said as I rasied an eyebrow.

  “The flesh of its shell, no.” The priestess shook her head. “But this demon is not like humans. Its heart does not beat like yours or mine. It is a gemstone filled with pure darkness, twisted by evil and long centuries of being locked away. Yet its gemstone is not made to contain such power. The magic within the stone already strains the limits of its structure. By pouring more magic into the stone, you will shatter it and set free the dark power trapped within.”

  Her words were starting to make sense. I’d found that gemstones like the ones I’d taken from Arieste and Irenya were used as conduits to transmit the magical energies from one vessel to another. They were like the bridge that connected the dragons first to the altar, and now to me. The gemstones could not store the energy, simply channel it.

  “So, basically, we keep filling up the gemstone until it overloads and shatters?” I ask.

  “Yes!” cried the priestess. “And in doing so, disperse the power that keeps the demon trapped on this plane of existence. The demon will no longer be able to remain on Agreon and will be sent back to the hell that spawned it.”

  I sat back in my chair and drew in a deep breath. I’d always thought of demons and hell to be as fantastical as the dragons and wizards I read about in novels. The fact that I was sitting beside two women who were once dragons, and had magical power running through my veins made it a bit easier to accept that demons really could exist.

  “Cut the demon open, expose his heart, and cram it so full of magic that it overloads and destroys it,” I recapped. “Seems pretty straightforward.”

  Captain Daxos snorted, and I caught Arieste smirking.

  “But Vozaath is not the only threat you will face in the lost city of Ironfast,” the priestess said.

  “Of course not,” I laughed. “An unkillable demon was just too easy, huh?”

  “No, unfortunately. Before the coming of the first men to the deeps, a race of creatures dwelled in the quiet, empty darkness. Small, horned creatures with stubby wings and razor-sharp claws. They lived peaceful lives like wild beasts tend to. But when the wizards carved Ironfast from the black stone at the heart of the mountain, they discovered that these little creatures could store magical energy. They bonded with the creatures, forcing them to serve their will as familiars. The wizards called them ‘implings’ though their true name is lost to time.”

  “Let me guess,” I said, “the implings are still running around in Ironfast, and they’re so pissed off at all humans that they’re going to attack us the moment they sense our presence.” That seemed pretty par for the course.

  “Their numbers were greatly reduced as the wizards used them for their magical powers,” the priestess said with a nod, “but those that survived aligned themselves with Vozaath against the wizards.”

  “When you say small, you mean like two or three feet tall, right?” I asked. I’d seen lots of pictures of imps back home, and none of them seemed particularly terrifying.

  “Yes,” the priestess replied. “But their eyes are keen enough to see in the dark, and their ears detect even the slightest vibration in the stone. The moment you open the door, they will know you are there and prepare to attack.”

  I turned to Arieste, Irenya, and Captain Daxos. None of them seemed particularly afraid of this new revelation. No doubt their main worry, like mine, was dealing with Vozaath.

  “We’ll deal with any implings we run across,” I said in a confident voice. “Assuming they can be hurt with magic and regular weapons?”

  “They will seek to absorb your magic and turn it against you,” said Quailu as she folded her hands on the table before her. “You must avoid all use of magic around them, or else you will put the weapons of your own destruction in their hands.”

  “Kill them with regular weapons, got it.” My trusty fireman’s axe would get quite a lot of use on this quest it seemed. “Is there anything else you can tell us? Anything about getting into the Iron Keep? Any sort of magical defenses we’ll need to worry about?”

  “All I can tell you is what my predecessors told me,” the priestess said with a shake of her head. “They mentioned no magical defenses. Perhaps the wizards were too occupied fighting Vozaath that th
ey had no time or power to spare.”

  “Fingers crossed,” I said with a grin.

  “I have given you all the information I can offer, Sir Ethan Dragonrider.” Quailu reached across the table to take my hand. “Now, take the blessing of Roassa, Goddess of Time and Fortune, and may it carry you safely to success.”

  She raised her three fingers to touch her forehead and her heart, then repeated the blessing for Irenya, Arieste, and Captain Daxos. When she had finished, she stood and shuffled from the room.

  For a long moment, I remained seated, my eyes fixed on the wooden table before me. The priestess had given us a lot of useful information, but I knew that we’d still be facing a pretty tough challenge. The quest to eliminate Emroth had suddenly grown a lot more difficult.

  “Let’s go,” I said as I pushed my chair back from the table, stood, and turned to Captain Daxos. “We’re going to get a few hours of sleep, then we’ll leave first thing in the morning.”

  “As you say, Sir Ethan,” he said with a little bow.

  “You know morning doesn’t mean anything in the deep, dark caverns under the city?” Nyvea asked as I walked back toward the narrow tunnel that led to the main temple room.

  “Yep,” I told her, “but it means something to my brain and body. I could do with a couple of hours of rest.”

  “Rest?” Nyvea asked in a silky tone. “Or did you have something a tad more… recreational in mind?”

  I glanced back at Arieste and found her eyes on me.

  “Or you could use that tongue of yours for other, better activities,” Nyvea purred.

  “Do you ever think about anything other than sex?” I asked.

  “What else is there?” Her laughter echoed in my head. “I’m trapped in an amulet, so it’s my job to make sure you have enough fun for the both of us. Unless you want to let me out and have it together?”

  It had been a while since she’d asked to be freed, so long I’d nearly forgotten about it. When Barodan first gave me the amulet, he’d said that Nyvea would only serve me as long as she remained locked away. She had spent most of our first week together trying to get me to let her out. I’d almost thought she had come to terms with our partnership, but I guess I was wrong.