“The dragons will be ours to command.” Aurellia’s eyes shone with triumph. Does he really think he can so easily fool the dragons? Talis was unconvinced, especially after their encounter with the three dragons on the beach. How would they win over an entire kingdom of dragons?
Aurellia wiped the air with his hand and the scene changed to a field of fallen soldiers, slain in a vast encounter. Swords and axes and maces lay strewn across the pile of bodies. Purple and gold banners trodden over, stained by blood and mud. Beyond the chaotic plain a ruined castle burned, with smoke rising into the air. The sick stench of charred human remains stung Talis’s nostrils. He watched Aurellia kneel down in front of a knight in silver armor. Lines of blood stained the man’s face. The knight was still alive, but his breath was ragged and weak. When Aurellia peered at the man’s face, the knight opened his eyes a sliver, and Talis could see the defeat and despair.
The dark lord yanked off the knight’s silver helm adorned with a vibrant plumage. The man groaned in pain as his neck was stretched back. Aurellia placed his palm over the man’s face and closed his eyes as if in prayer.
“Death Magic requires ashes from the living. The transformation of living flesh into living ash.” Aurellia mumbled words of prayer, words that sounded like prayers to Zagros, Lord of the Underworld. His hand glowed red like fire. In an instant the knight’s face melted, igniting a burst of flame that consumed his entire body. Ash from the man swirled like a dusk devil underneath Aurellia’s palm. The ash floated up, spun around and dove into Aurellia’s opened mouth. The old sorcerer ingested the ash until his body pulsed with luminescent waves of red and black. After five heartbeats, Aurellia’s skin transformed into that of a young man’s: smooth, ruddy, and unwrinkled. The harsh lines on his neck and hands changed into the soft, delicate texture of a child’s. Even his eyes radiated youth and vitality.
Was this a vision or were they someplace in the real world? Talis bent down and felt the blood-soaked earth with hesitant fingers and shrank back at the gritty sensation. It all seemed incredibly real.
“The invigorating quality of living ash…taken from a living, breathing specimen.” Aurellia’s expression was like a boy receiving a birthday present. “Fills these old bones with fire. Makes me crave to battle another day. All the power, all the vitality, all the desire to live and fight and succeed. Inside, men carry such power…all passed to me in a single moment.”
He was beyond a monster. Talis shrank away from the dark lord, wanting to flee. How could he learn a magic that consumed men’s vitality and life in exchange for invincibility? Aurellia’s voice crackled with electricity as he spoke.
“I can see from your eyes…you must be wondering about the gift of immortality from the Zacrane Dagger. A bitter pill. To live forever if untouched, but still vulnerable to be slain. Such a weak gift indeed. A curse really. Especially considering that the Zacrane Dagger fails to prevent the physical effects of aging. How can I put it? It keeps your core organs and internal functions working and preserves the rest of your body in a kind of mummification state. Rather nasty. I experienced several hundred years of that hardship. I was there, abandoned on your world, without the knowledge of purification and renewal magic. I barely kept myself in one piece.”
Talis grimaced at the thought. Was this his future? To live and age and slowly fall apart while still remaining alive? Or to learn Death Magic and turn into the monster he hated so much? The monster that had taken Mara away from him? If the ancients of Vellia chained this evil on my world, Talis thought, then they must be able to help me. Maybe they possess the magics of renewal. My enemy’s enemy is my friend. My only hope?
“And now you must learn the art of Death Magic,” Aurellia said, walking over to the groaning body of a banner boy lying on the muddy earth. The dark lord motioned Talis to join him, and guided his hand over the dying boy’s face. Talis told himself he wouldn’t do it. Even if this was a vision, the idea of killing this boy was too terrible.
“Go ahead, take his suffering away.” Aurellia’s voice was low and compelling. “In a way, the boy’s vitality and life will go on—inside of you. Take it. Take his gift into your body. Don’t let his death be wasted by the futility of war. And, apprentice, if you think this is a vision, think again. This is real. Vellia is a vast planet. Over a hundred times the size of your planet, with many kingdoms and realms, both in the sky, on the land, and in the caverns and mines deep in the earth. Take his life.”
The ancient words were whispered in Talis’s ear, and he repeated them—gods, but he really repeated them. His hand was hot on the boy’s face. The fire raged inside. Talis knew he was doomed.
4. THE BUILDER
Mara found herself back inside the massive hut, brooding over dark and wispy memories: living shadows, her magical dagger glowing green in the night, and blood spurting from wounds she’d inflicted. She shook her head, trying to dispel the horrific images. What had happened to her? Had she really killed so many men and women? Or was it all just a vision. I mustn’t believe it was real. But Elder Relech’s cackles still rang in her mind. His taunts, his threats, his morbid whispers. Do it, child, take the man’s life. He’s suffering, anyway. Can’t you see he’s dying? Just a slip of your blade across his throat will ease his pain.
And the worst part was, she had really done it. How could she have killed so many? Wasn’t it just a bad dream? Where were Talis and Nikulo? She had to gain her hold on reality. A familiar face. She needed to wrap her arms around Talis and feel his warmth. She found herself shivering. So cold. The night chill had seeped into her bones.
After Elder Relech had stolen her away inside the shadow cloud, and she had been worried that she’d never find her way back here again. He’d taken her to a distant city of stone and brick. Gas lanterns casting eerie shadows across cobblestone streets. A guard on patrol. His blood staining his tattered leather jerkin. Where her dagger had plunged into his kidney. Damned these terrible visions! She forced herself back to reality, back to the hut, to stare at the old women cooking rice gruel at the fire. But she was all alone. Around her lay sacks of rice, and bundles of garlic and onions writhed above, twisted by the maelstrom slowly subsiding outside. The acceleration of the planet’s rotation. The storm. When would daybreak come?
Mara’s stomach gurgled, her mouth watering at the smell of the rice gruel. Had it really been over a day since she last ate? Several of the villagers were preparing bowls for breakfast, while others stirred awake from their sleep. Eyes bleary and red. It didn’t seem like the night had lasted long enough for a full night’s sleep. Mara was exhausted and hungry at the same time. And she wondered where her friends were. She really missed Talis and couldn’t stand the thought of not seeing him again. She had a feeling it would be a long while. If ever.
She stumbled over to the fire, her legs aching from the night’s running and stalking and jumping. Wait, if it was just a dream then why is my whole body sore? Why do my hands bear callouses from gripping daggers? She didn’t dare inspect her weapons for evidence. Best to leave them hidden away in their sheaths.
At the fire, Mara warmed her hands, and gazed as the flames danced with the shadows. A vivid image struck her mind. Three long shadows bobbing down a stone corridor. A fat, rich merchant flanked by two pocked-face guards. One blade digging into the guard’s back. Another dagger wrapping around the other guard’s neck like deadly embrace. Blood bursting from the slice. The merchant hobbling away, his ankle crippled from the guard falling on top of him. I killed them all, Mara thought.
And she hated herself for it. She had to escape. Going along with Aurellia’s barbaric plan wasn’t an option. Talis and Nikulo may have sworn fealty to that monster, but nothing prevented her from planning his eradication from the land of the living. Better to banish him to the world of the dead, where he belongs. Let the living live their lives.
A kind old woman waddled over to where Mara sat by the fire. She handed Mara a bamboo bowl filled with steaming rice gruel.
Mara bowed her head to the old woman and whispered her thanks for the food. But the old woman’s eyes were blackened over, demonic like the village leader’s. A zombie. A minion of the dark lord. The hideous scene from the day before played out in Mara’s mind. Of Elder Rolovian’s finger staining the chieftain’s heart with blackness.
Mara felt like she was living in a kind of twisted netherworld—a land of shadows and malice. At least the rice gruel tasted delicious, of sweet onions, mushrooms, and pork. A bit of sweetness in this otherwise bleak world. If only she could share this meal with Talis, and feel his warmth next to her. How she wished she’d said more to him, told him what she was feeling…but it was all too complicated. She didn’t know herself what she felt. Was it love? Talis was her best friend. Her lifelong companion. Of course she loved him. But did she love him like that? Her face flushed just thinking about it, remembering the time they were on that island, swimming in ocean, feeling the waves wash over her. She had definitely felt something towards him then. Something strong that made her feel weak and warm at the same time.
But now he was gone. She could tell Aurellia was determined to separate them. He wanted to manipulate Talis into doing whatever ill scheme the dark lord had planned. So much for staying together. It would be harder now, alone, surrounded by village zombies and Aurellia’s loyal sorcerers.
She ate in silence, listening to the flames eating hungrily at the wood, the shuffling of feet as the villagers worked, and the murmuring chants of a circle of shamans, casting dark spells into a formation of human bones. Out of the corner of her eye she spotted a familiar figure: Nikulo rubbing his sleepy eyes. She smiled and laughed as he released a morning fart, causing the villagers nearby to cough and scurry away like tortured mice. His eyes settled on hers, and grinning sheepishly, he made his way over to her.
“All that potion brewing stirred up a mighty gas in my belly.” His devilish expression said he knew what he was saying wasn’t true. “Ah, finally, some breakfast. I thought morning would never come. That stupid Rolovian made me brew poisons until I fell asleep stirring a pot. He kept hitting me with his stick. Hah! But after a while it didn’t work and finally the old sorcerer just gave up and left me to my slumber.”
Mara summoned the old woman over and asked her for a bowl of gruel for Nikulo. He slurped the food like a hungry puppy discovering a feast. Mara sighed and felt the tension melting away from her shoulders as she watched him eat. Seeing something familiar was soothing for her. When the bowl was emptied, Nikulo belched loudly, waking the remaining sleeping villagers, and slapped his belly like he wanted more.
“These bowls are too small for my hunger. Excuse me, zombie minion?” Nikulo motioned over the old woman. “Another bowl of your delicious rice gruel?”
He leaned in to Mara and lowered his voice. “At least these zombie-eyes still know how to cook. Where is our friend Talis?” Nikulo glanced around the enormous hut, as if expecting his friend to be hiding behind some of the sacks of rice.”
Mara found her heart beating erratically and her mouth dry, thinking of Talis off in some dark place with Aurellia, alone and unsupported by his friends. Forced to perform dark deeds. She clutched her head with her hands and closed her eyes, hoping Talis could keep the will to fight off Aurellia’s influence. Gods, don’t let him change, Mara thought, don’t let Talis be infected by that monster.
Nikulo’s head sank and he released a heavy sigh. His furrowed brow made him look older than his sixteen years. I suppose we all look older after this terrible journey…like a war we’ve been through together. Nikulo reached out and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze and caught her eyes, nodding as if he understood how she felt.
“We’ll find Talis…we’ll be back together again. We will return home, don’t you worry. Oh now, don’t go on like that, Mara. Dry your tears—be strong. I’m sure Talis will be all right.”
Mara couldn’t help it. Tears spilled freely from her eyes. For all the terrible things she’d done against those innocents at Elder Relech’s urgings. At being away from Mother and her family. All twisted up into a knot that clenched her stomach. In her mind she saw Talis’s beautiful face beaming at her, his eyes filled with love and admiration. How she missed him.
Damned but she would get her revenge against Aurellia for causing all this. At every dagger strike last night she had imagined the blade sinking deep into the dark lord. Him falling to the ground, suffering, groaning, crying out for help. Let him die. Let him join his allies in the Underworld. A fitting homecoming.
In a burst of blinding light, Mara shielded her eyes as a shadow portal formed and Elder Relech and Rolovian strode through, appraising their surroundings as if they were princes taking stock of their kingdom. She felt a surge of fury shake her arms until she found her hands were balled up into fists. How was she ever to go on like this? She couldn’t pretend obedience to these horrors. And she couldn’t keep giving in and following their dark lessons. She had to fight to keep her sense of self alive.
Elder Rolovian gazed at the tribal leader and the corpulent man waddled over to where the sorcerer stood and stared obediently at Rolovian.
“Time to seek out the day.” The sorcerer gestured towards the door. “Our armies will be arriving through the portal soon.”
The two strode together towards the entrance, and the tribal leader undid the straps securing the door, and soon hazy morning light seeped into the hut. Mara felt a sigh of relief as Elder Relech followed Rolovian outside. The tribal leader scanned his eerie black eyes across the hut, and all the villagers filed out through the entrance, leaving breakfast behind.
Nikulo ambled over to the pot of rice gruel and dug the serving spoon inside, fishing around for chunks of meat. When he’d filled his bowl he grinned and sat next to the pot, cramming gruel inside his eager mouth.
“Don’t you ever stop eating?” Mara frowned at Nikulo, but was glad the others had left. Perhaps they could try and plan their escape. But glancing around the room, and remembering the runic traps set around the portal, Mara realized it was futile. Besides, Talis had to be part of whatever they did. They needed him.
Nikulo let out an enormous belch and rubbed his stomach in a satisfied swirl. “Gods be praised, that made up for all the lost meals. I think I finally have enough energy to stand facing whatever is coming through the portal. Shall we go outside and spy on them? Maybe we can discover something that we can use against them. Are you all right, Mara? You look like you’ve seen a demon.”
“I don’t know what’s come over me…maybe it is the lack of sleep. And last night—I did things—terrible things. I just can’t stand the idea of being around him.”
Nikulo’s worried face tensed up. “Who? What happened to you? You’re shaking!”
Mara buried her face in her hands, trying to let the dark images slip from her mind. “Elder Relech…he took me to far away cities and compelled me to kill so many innocents. He trained me all night in the ways of the assassin. I didn’t want to do it! I swear, I didn’t.”
“There now, I know you wouldn’t have done things like that. They’re demons, they are. I suppose we’ve all been seeing demons—in the flesh. You have to keep resisting him, Mara. Don’t give in. Don’t lose yourself to their power. You’re stronger than that.”
“But what if he makes me kill more people again?”
Nikulo wagged his head from side to side. “Just don’t run away from him. Stand up to him. He can’t make you kill more people—you have to really believe that.”
If he did, Mara was determined to use what Elder Relech had taught her against him. She’d see to it that the blade turned against the master. Quiet and smooth as the night.
“Let’s get out of this foul building.” Nikulo took Mara’s hand and pulled her to her feet. “At least outside the sun is shining—it’s a new day. Let’s see what Aurellia’s plan has in store for us.”
Mara didn’t really care what the dark lord had planned for this world. They could all go to the U
nderworld for all she cared. This was Aurellia’s world after all, wasn’t it? Her world was far away, and in danger at that. Naru needed their help.
Outside the warm weather had returned to the tropical island, a balmy breeze sending the palm leaves into a lazy dance. The ground was littered with branches and overturned canoes and the scattered ashes of yesterday’s burned huts. The village was a wreck. With Aurellia’s army coming, Mara knew it would only get worse. The villagers and their resources were probably just fuel to feed Aurellia’s force.
Wary of approaching too close to Elder Relech, Mara skirted along the edge of the palm trees, circling around the beach until they neared the place where the two Elders and the village leader stood at the head of the congregation of bedraggled villagers. A sorry gang of entranced followers—too pathetic in comparison with the powerful Elders. When the first leg appeared through the portal—a gold robed figure casting bolts of lightning from his fingertips—the crowd hushed and released shouts of delight at the arrival of Elder Raelles.
The three Elders came together and formed an unholy triangle, the sparks of electricity from their hands fusing together in a single, terrible pyramid of energy above their heads. Thunder boomed above, crippling the crowd’s forward momentum, until all the villagers fled back to the sand, crouched low in fear and amazement at the display of power.
The portal spewed a horde of soldiers and sorcerers and necromancers like a seasick sailer. Brave duos in silver armor and blood-red helms—elite swordsmen—raised shimmering swords to the sun. Baggy-eyed necromancers, their skin pale and pasty, stabbed the air in front of them with skull-tipped scepters that issued demonic-laced clouds into the lazy, blue sky. Those blights upon the earth searched, eyes hungry for skulls and bones, and found purchase upon the remnants of yesterday’s fight. Hurried spells cast caused the collapsed villagers—slain in the heat of battle—to rise once again, black-eyed and hungry, a slobbering army of undead minions.
Dragon Mage (Blacklight Chronicles) Page 3
