Dragon Slayer 2_A Pulp Fantasy Harem Adventure

by Michael-Scott Earle

  I stood, lifted my axe, and brought it down hard onto the padlock. Bright blue runes flared to life as the axe struck, and the steel head rebounded from the lock’s metal with almost enough force to rip it from my hands. I stumbled backward in shock and stared at the runes slowly fading away.

  “Magical locks, eh?” I sheathed my axe and crouched in front of the casket again. “Any chance you’ve got a magical key?”

  “No,” Captain Daxos said and shook his head. “But I’ve got this.”

  I looked up to see he’d drawn the sword we had found in the bone pile in the tunnels. He pressed the glowing red gemstone in the hilt, and fire flared to life along the blade’s curved edge, so I scuttled backward to give him space to swing. The moment the flaming sword touched the padlock, the runes glowed a blinding blue, and then burst with an audible snap and a puff of smoke. The metal lock snapped beneath the force of the blow, and we stepped back toward the treasure chest like two kids about to open a candy drawer.

  Captain Daxos gasped as he opened the lid of the casket. Bright blue runes decorated the entire interior, and I could almost feel them tugging the magic from inside me. The flames on Captain Daxos’ sword immediately faded as the runes absorbed the power. I realized these runes had to serve some sort of cloaking function to conceal the magic from the items within from the demon or my magical senses.

  A body, distinctly human, lay within the casket. The man looked to be forty or fifty years old, but his body showed no sign of decay or decomposition. It appeared as though he’d died just moments before, but the fact that he was lying here told me he’d been dead for hundreds of years. The passage of time had simply passed him by, locked away in his rune-covered resting place. It reminded me of the sort of embalming the Egyptians did when burying their pharaohs, except this used magic and proved far more effective at preserving the bodies.

  I could feel the magic emanating from the circlet on his head, and hope surged within me as I saw the red gemstone set in the center of the metal band. Carefully, I lifted the circlet free, placed it on my own head, and pressed the gemstone. The metal band gave a little hum, and I gasped as Captain Daxos’ form suddenly flared brightly. My vision now worked far better than the FLIR imaging systems I’d used back in the Fire Academy. I could both see the captain’s physical outline and the heat rising from his body layered atop it in perfect precision.

  We had found the Circlet of Darksight.

  But there was still more magic coming from inside the casket. A gemstone that looked to be made of solid gold was set into the piece of armor that covered the dead man’s right shoulder. When I pressed it, the entire piece of armor lit up like a flashlight and filled the room with enough light to see.

  “Well, I’ll be damned!” I grinned as I lifted the pauldron from the casket and used its brilliance to illuminate the entire storage room. “That’s going to come in handy down here in the darkness.”

  I glanced back into the casket, but that was the last of the magical items. Captain Daxos helped me close the lid, and the magic in the room faded until only the Circlet of Darksight and the shining pauldron remained. I pressed the gem to switch off the light and then slipped the armor into my pack.

  “We have what we came for,” I told Captain Daxos with a nod. “Let’s get out of here.”

  It was strange staring at him while wearing the Circlet of Darksight. His features were perfectly clear, yet at the same time, his body heat made him glow a bright red. It would take a bit of getting used to.

  Bright light suddenly blossomed above me, and a glow as brilliant as a furnace nearly blinded me as Vozaath tried to shove its Lazy Boy-sized horned head into the hole we’d made in the roof. Its beady eyes fixed on me, and I had no doubt that the monster sensed the magic coming from the Circlet.

  The demon let out a roar that nearly shattered my ear and reached a huge clawed hand toward me.

  Chapter Fifteen

  I dove out of the way of the swiping claw, rolled to my feet, and unslung my axe in a single smooth movement. When Vozaath swung again, I planted my feet solidly and met the monster’s clawed hand with the steel blade of my axe. I poured all my strength into the blow, and Vozaath shrieked in pain as the sharpened edge bit deep into its wrist. I felt bone shatter beneath the impact, and drops of dark blood sprayed over my face.

  The demon opened its mouth to howl, but the sound was cut off as something slammed into its back with enough force to set the tower shaking beneath my feet. I heard a dragon’s roar and caught a flash of red as Irenya sank her fangs into the scruff of Vozaath’s neck. Her sinewy neck tensed and, with a mighty heave, she dragged the big ugly asshole backward out of the hole. The wind of her wings buffeted the tower and she beat at the air like a hummingbird until Vozaath’s claws pulled free of Iron Keep.

  Irenya and the demon plummeted from my view a moment later, and I heard a loud screech followed by a thunderous crash of heavy bodies striking stone far below. I quickly hauled myself up onto the roof of Iron Keep and peered over the edge. The heat-outlined figure of Irenya shook herself free and bounded away from the prone form of the demon. They had crashed their way through two six-story stone buildings, and the impact looked to have momentarily stunned the demon.

  “Arieste!” I shouted and scanned the darkness for the ice dragon. Irenya didn’t seem to be injured but was too dazed to press her advantage against the stunned Vozaath, so I had to get down there to deal with it myself.

  I heard a dragon’s roar and saw a towering figure flying toward me, her bulk outlined in the red of her body heat. She would reach me in ten seconds or so, just enough time for me to help Captain Daxos get out of the Iron keep and onto the roof.

  “Get ready!” I told the Blackguard captain. “The moment Arieste gets here, we jump.”

  “Jump?” Captain Daxos looked at me like I was crazy.

  “We’ve gotta get down there fast before Vozaath gets up.”

  “But jump?”

  “Now!” I shouted as Arieste flew up toward us. Before Captain Daxos could protest, I grabbed his arm, took two steps to the edge of the roof, and leapt.

  The wind rushed up to greet us as we fell. I had no doubt Captain Daxos was terrified, and I would have been too had I not seen the faint heat outline of Arieste through the magic of the Circlet of Darksight. We fell for less than two seconds before the white dragon swooped beneath us, and we crashed hard onto her neck. The captain and I clung to her spines as she whirled and dove toward the stunned figure of Vozaath. It took all of my strength to hold on as she pulled up, beating the air hard with her wings, then collided with the prone demon and dug her claws into his chest. As the captain and I leapt off her back and onto the stone ground, I heard a great ripping sound like tearing canvas, and a blue light filled the cavern.

  I gasped as I squinted against the sudden brightness that burst from the demon’s chest. The gemstone that was its heart shone with enough heat to make my eyes tear, and I had to rip the Circlet of Darksight from my head or else risk being blinded by the dazzling heat and light. The amount of magic that went into creating such a gemstone was immense, almost as much as the magic I’d felt in the altars in Riamod and Frosdar’s lairs. But this magic was self-contained, with no tether for me to cut. The only way to shut it down was to overload it, or so People’s Councilor Danikel believed.

  “Arieste, Irenya, hold him down!” I shouted.

  The white dragon leaped onto the demon’s head and buried her claws into the flesh beside its twin horns, and the red dragon gripped the demon’s massive legs in her foreclaws. Arieste’s attack had torn open its chest and exposed the gemstone. I had no magic, but the two dragons had more than enough between them.

  “Attack the gemstone, now!” I shouted.

  White light flared in the cavern as Arieste summoned a shield of ice to form around the demon’s heart. A moment later, crimson added its brilliance as Irenya sent a blast of heat surging at the pulsing blue gemstone. The blue light grew brighter as
the gemstone absorbed the magic, but it did not shatter.

  Even when Arieste and Irenya attacked it again.

  If anything, the magical attacks just seemed to make the demon stronger, and I watched in horror as the flesh of its chest re-knit and the wound closed. Vozaath let out a mighty bellowing roar, ripped its legs free of Irenya’s grasp, and kicked her hard in the snout with both taloned paws. Its hands came up to seize Arieste’s sinewy neck in an iron grip. The white dragon let out a cry of pain as the demon wrenched at her neck, and I could see that it would snap in seconds.

  “Oh no you fucking don’t!” I shouted as I took two quick steps forward and swung my axe with all my strength.

  The steel blade bit deep into the creature’s thick wrist, shattered bone, and ripped through flesh and muscle beyond. Black blood spurted from Vozaath’s stump and stained Arieste’s white scales, and the demon let out an agonized howl. It writhed out from under Arieste’s bulk and turned beady eyes on me. With a growl of rage and pain, it lowered its gigantic head and charged.

  I had a split second to react, and I hurled myself to the side as the demon rushed at me. Its massive bulk thundered past me at a terrifying speed, and it crashed into a stone building with enough force to bring the walls crumbling down. I got to my feet and whirled to face the attack, but I heard only bellows of pain. The five-story building had collapsed onto the demon, and it would take a few seconds to dig itself out.

  But when it did, what would I do? The People’s Councilor’s plan of overloading the gemstone had failed, so how the fuck were we supposed to bring down the demon? Arieste and Irenya had torn its flesh to shreds, but its magic just healed it.

  “It absorbs it!” My eyes flew wide as the realization struck me. The demon was doing exactly what I did when I used the Mark of the Guardian. It was siphoning the magic, but instead of taking it from the bodies of the magical creatures that attacked it, somehow it was absorbing the magic of the attack itself. I didn’t know how it did that, but I could understand the basics.

  The more we hit it, the stronger it got. To weaken it, we needed to drain the magic keeping it alive. My fire and ice powers wouldn’t work here, and I guessed that I needed the Mark of the Guardian to defeat the demon.

  “Arieste, Irenya!” I shouted as I whirled and sprinted toward the two dragons. I replaced the Circlet of Darksight, and their outlines flared brightly in the darkness. “I need you to bring the bastard down and rip open its chest again. Can you do that?”

  Pain burned in Arieste’s dragon eyes and Irenya still seemed dazed from Vozaath’s attack, but they both let out rumbling growls that I took to mean yes.

  “Let me at that gemstone,” I said. “I’ve got a plan.”

  “What do I do?” Captain Daxos asked, and I whirled to find the man limping toward me with his fiery sword held in a firm grip, and a determined expression on his face.

  “Shut the magic off and use your normal sword,” I told him. “Get ready to hack at the demon’s chest if they can’t tear it open.”

  Fear flashed in the captain’s eyes, but he nodded. “Got it.” The surrounding light faded as he extinguished the fire and sheathed his sword, then drew the katana-like blade he’d carried since Windwall. He held the sword in the familiar grip of a man who had spent most of his life wielding it.

  The sound of crashing rubble echoed behind me, accompanied by a furious bellow. I turned to face the demon, and my gut tightened as the glowing form of Vozaath burst from the collapsed building. The creature shook itself, then its beady eyes came to rest on me. Its lips split into a bestial grin, and it let out a long howl before lowering its head and charging.

  I had neither the time nor desire to run. I stood my ground, feet planted, axe in hand. I trusted my dragons.

  No, they weren’t my dragons. They were my lovers, and I knew they cared for me as much as I cared for them.

  Seconds before the demon hit me, a massive red-scaled figure crashed into it and brought it down hard to the ground. Vozaath slashed and bit at Irenya, but Irenya answered with her own talons and teeth. A moment later, Arieste’s bulk slammed into the demon and bore it to the ground. Vozaath howled and shrieked as it fought, but it faced two powerful dragons easily twice its weight and size. Arieste bit into its good left hand with enough force to shatter bone while Irenya drove one of her hind leg talons into the monster’s thigh and pinned it to the ground. Her razor-sharp talons slashed down the front of the demon’s chest, and the horrifying tearing sound echoed above the demon’s howls.

  I tensed in expectation of my turn to attack, but the blue light never came. Vozaath bucked and writhed in the dragons’ grip, and it took all of their strength to keep it pinned to the ground. They could not spare claws or teeth to rip open the demon’s chest to expose its gemstone heart.

  Before I could lift my axe, I heard a shout of “For Windwall” from my right, and Captain Daxos charged the three massive struggling creatures with his sword held low to strike. My gut tensed as Irenya’s tail swept toward him, but he threw himself under it, rolled to his feet, and kept running. He jumped over Vozaath’s hind leg, leapt onto Arieste’s wing, and used its height to give him a leaping attack onto the demon’s torso. A terrible howl of pain split the air as the Captain’s steel sword opened a long deep gash across Vozaath’s chest, and a bright blue light flared in the cavern.

  I reached for the Mark of the Guardian and tugged at the magic roiling within the demon’s gemstone heart. I gasped in horror as soon as I touched the thing, and I almost pulled my hand away. Unlike the icy river of Arieste’s magic or the burning heat of Irenya’s, this felt like drowning in thick, oozing tar. The scummy taint of the magic twisted my stomach and made me want to vomit.

  The demon howled in fear as it recognized what I intended to do, and I felt it begin to tug on my power as if trying to rip what little ice and fire magic remained within me. I heard Nyvea scream in my head as the demon fought to tear at whatever power held her constrained to the amulet. For the first time, there was real fear in Nyvea’s voice.

  The wound on Vozaath’s chest began to close as the demon sucked away my magic, and the light of the blue gemstone grew faint as the flesh healed around it. With a roar of fury, I reached once more for the power of the Mark of the Guardian and pulled with all my might on the magic of the demon’s heart. Though it sickened me to the core of my being, I tugged at the disgusting, seething, tainted tar-like magic. To kill the demon, I had to completely sever it from whatever magic connected it to the gemstone. That meant I had to drain the magic from it until it was as inert and lifeless as the gemstones in the Iron Keep high above me.

  Vozaath let out a terrified shriek as it felt its magic slipping away. It tried to pull back on the magic, to stop me from siphoning it away, but I gritted my teeth and kept on. Sweat streamed down my face and every fiber of my being ached from the strain, yet I would not give up.

  “Die, you fucking bastard!” I heard myself shouting.

  The gemstone’s light began to grow dim, and Vozaath’s screams grew fainter as I consumed its power. I felt an almost audible snap as I severed the tether holding its flesh bound to the magic of its stone heart. It let out one final cry of terror and pain, then crumbled away into dust.

  I collapsed with a gasp, horrified at the foul magic coursing through me. I could barely breathe for the constricting, suffocating power, and every instinct shrieked at me to get rid of it. But how? Once I had absorbed the magic, I could not get rid of it until I found a new host for it. A new host meant another demon, and I couldn’t have that. Yet I couldn’t keep the power inside me for a second longer.

  “The gemstone!” Nyvea cried in my mind. “Give the power to the gemstone!”

  “No!” I recoiled at the thought. “That will bring the demon back!”

  “The demon is dead,” Nyvea shouted. Her voice was faint, tinged with panic. “You severed the ties holdings its flesh bound to the gemstone. The stone is simply the container to store the magi
c. Without flesh, there can be no demon.”

  The idea of facing another demon like Vozaath made my stomach churn. It must have taken terrible power to summon such a thing into existence, and we barely defeated it. Both dragons were staggered by the exertion of fighting the demon, so there was no way they could overcome it again right now.

  But I had no choice. The tainted magic threatened to poison every fiber of my being. I could feel it sinking vicious claws into my brain, my heart, and my soul. If I didn’t get it out of me, I would be twisted by its power, and I would become the next Vozaath.

  With a roar, I willed the polluted power out of my body and sent it in a stream toward the gemstone. Thick black cords stretched from my hands toward the lifeless stone, which sucked up the smoke-like power with all the eagerness of a starving man at a feast. The gemstone began to glow once more, but no longer with a bright blue light. Instead, it was an inky, dark light somehow blacker than the surrounding darkness. Horror roiled within me as I stared at it through the Circlet of Darksight. It seemed to absorb all the surrounding light, sucking it into a great gaping void of magic.

  “Get rid of it!” Nyvea shouted. “Now!”

  “How?” I asked. “Where?”

  “Into the river,” she insisted. Panic tinged her voice as if she recognized and feared the power of the gemstone far more than anything I’d encountered before. “Let the Iron River sweep it away.”

  Without hesitation, I whipped off my cloak, raced toward the black glowing stone, and scooped it up. There was no way I wanted that foul power touching my skin, so I whirled toward the two dragons to see who could give me a lift. Arieste was lying on her belly and nursing a wound in her right foreleg, but Irenya seemed to be uninjured.

  “Irenya!” I shouted. Her head perked up at the sound of my voice. “I need you to fly me over the Iron River!”

  “Why?” the red dragon rumbled.

  “Just do it!” I shouted as I raced toward her. “Now!”