What did she think? Aurellia had outsmarted them many times before. She was honestly impressed by his cunning and resourcefulness. “As much as I despise him, he is a formidable opponent. I don’t think he’d return to Vella unprepared. I’m sure he has a credible plan, and Talis is somehow part of it.”
Goleth sank back in contemplation of her words, sunlight streaming on his bronzed face. “Hmm…yes, I suspect you are correct. And that gives me hope—faint hope—but hope all the same. Thank you for that. Your words have lightened the load on my heart. My burden is eased.”
He slapped his legs and pushed himself to his feet, vigorously inhaling the crisp, sea air. “And now, thanks to you, young Mara, I have the strength to build these last six ships! Apprentices? Come and cease your laziness. Focus the flow of the elements to me. Search wide and far across this island. I need stone and wood, the wind and the water and the sand I can manage!”
With a flourish of his hands, elemental streams surged all around him, summoned to life once again by his magical power. A mighty consternation fixed on his face as he returned to his labors. His three apprentices ran towards three different directions, searching for elements to feed their master’s fire. Mara gaped in amazement as Goleth formed a new ship’s design in the place where the first had been built. This one sleeker and taller, more majestic than the first, with the outer hull’s surface slathered in a shimmering coat, as if covered with sand crystals and sea shells that caught the sun’s brilliant light.
“It’s so beautiful!” Mara said. She caught a faint smile forming on the wizard’s mouth. He worked with renewed strength, fingers curled like claws, and as the immense pressure of the elements flowed through him, his face lined with deep, stressful grooves.
After an hour’s labor the ship was complete. Her deck was formed of rich, burnished wood, and her sails were the color of honey. The maiden at her masthead had an alabaster face as lovely and lively as the fair mermaids of the Ursulan Coast. The sun shimmered and danced across her crystalline surface. The first ship was bleak and functional, as if built through obligation; this one was a fine summer’s dream.
“Do you like my fair creation, miss?” Goleth grinned at Mara, pride and playfulness beaming from his green eyes. “Your beauty has inspired me in forming a fine art. See how she glimmers in the hazy sunlight? You and your friend shall ride with me on the crystal ship. What shall we call her?”
Mara thought for a moment, and with a sudden feeling of warmth said, “Nacrea. We’ll name her after the Goddess Nacrea.”
The Builder frowned, as if deep in contemplation, and gravely nodded his head. “We’ll name her after the Goddess of the Sun. But let’s keep this name a secret, shall we? No need to upset the Elders.”
Winking in agreement, Mara took a step towards the dock. “Can we board the ship?”
“Yes, of course! I will join later, after completing the other ships. Let’s ask the Jiserian soldiers to board—no need to let the undead rabble taint such a beauty.”
Mara motioned for Nikulo to follow her, and they pushed their way through the throng of undead and out onto the magically made dock. She was surprised at the strength and solidity of the creation. As they strode farther out along the dock, she spotted schools of brilliantly colored fish darting through vividly painted coral and sea sponges. A family of enormous sea turtles glided up to the surface, and with impassive eyes, studied Mara and Nikulo. They seemed indignant at the bridge and their presence, as if displeased with the interruption of their journey.
“I wonder how Palarian is holding up?” Nikulo said, bending down to inspect the sea turtles. The creatures bobbed up and down with the ocean’s tide, and eventually dove back down into the depths of the sea.
“He looked like he was really suffering when we left.” But Mara wasn’t thinking of the old sorcerer, as she walked towards the beautiful ship, she worried about Talis. Where had Aurellia taken him? She stared off at low, dark clouds hovering over the ocean. At least Talis had the Surineda Map—he could find them, they could be reunited, they could escape back to their world one day.
Nikulo sighed as though great burden weighed on his mind. “You do realize that if Palarian dies—if he fails to hold up the twin portals—then we have no chance of ever returning home.”
Glancing back at the island, Mara spied the portal, still alive, still churning with vicious power. Maybe Aurellia wanted to keep the portal open in case his plans failed? Or were there more of his followers still to come? Deep down inside, she believed in Palarian, she believed he would not fail, she believed that some day they would find a way back through the portal and return to their world.
They turned and trudged their way towards the massive gangplank at the end of the dock. A small yowl came from behind, and they turned to watch Charna trot up to them. The lynx glanced around as if wondering where Talis was. Mara was angry at herself for forgetting to try and find Talis’s lynx.
“Talis is gone, Charna. But we’ll take care of you.” Nikulo reached out his arms and the lynx allowed him to hold her.
Mara thought back to the time they’d boarded The Bounty of the Sea at Khael. When they were all together—Rikar, Nikulo, Talis, and Mara. Where was that traitorous fool, anyway? As they climbed the steep gangplank, Mara wondered if Aurellia actually trusted Rikar. Did the dark lord’s plans somehow include him?
When they reached The Nacrea’s darkly stained wooden deck, the three Elders flew down and landed near the masthead. Mara and Nikulo strode hesitantly towards them as the three sorcerers surveyed their forces arrayed below. On the island, the stiff breeze blew the palm branches in a spiraling dance. The soldiers marched up the dock two-by-two, their red helms and silver armor gleaming in the bright sunlight. The Elders whispered in maniacal undertones as they pointed at the men marching up towards the ship.
“Those are the chosen ones,” Elder Raelles pronounced as if his statement were a death sentence.
“Are they all young and vital? Bones all unbroken? Unblemished, untainted by diseased, unsworn to any unaligned gods?” Elder Rolovian’s face was doubtful and grave. “The potions will fail, otherwise.”
At the mention of the word potions, four sorcerers flew over to the ship’s deck and guided a wide, flat case over to a map table near the helm. Elder Rolovian motioned the sorcerers to raise the case’s cover and with a flick of his hand sent them away. He glided over to the case and withdrew a thin vial of milky, glowing liquid.
Nikulo came alongside and whispered in Mara’s ear, “I helped make those potions last night. I wish I hadn’t been a part of their creation. If you only knew what terrible things I went through. If only I can erase what I’ve done. So hideous….”
His voice trailed off and Mara looked up into his face drained of color. Nikulo’s eyes looked bleak and distant, as if trying to run away from the memory. “What did you do to make the potions?”
“Eld—he brought me far away to a plain filled with gigantic, vicious beasts. The monsters were easily forty feet tall and moved like the wind. When they spotted us they grouped up together in an organized battle formation and attacked us from all sides. He cast shadow spells to immobilize them all. Then he set runes of some kind on each of the creature’s foreheads—”
Nikulo stopped himself as Elder Rolovian turned to glare at him. The Elder’s eyes held deep suspicion as he studied Nikulo and Mara. But Elder Raelles came over and pointed towards the soldiers now forming up atop the deck, and Elder Rolovian turned away.
“That was close,” whispered Nikulo. “Let’s go over here, away from him… Anyway, after the runes were set, he released the shadow spell and the monsters thrashed out after us, biting and scratching. I thought we were dead. But before they reached us, the runes activated and scaly claws opened up over their faces and started draining away their blood and their life force, while the beasts were at their most vicious state. The harder they fought the more the claws over their faces sucked out all their power.”
&
nbsp; Nikulo exhaled and winced, as if pained by the memory. “The creatures all tumbled over and died, howling and barking like dogs being beaten. Then we collected the sacs underneath the scaly claws and we emptied the milky liquid into those vials.”
Mara scowled, glaring at Elder Rolovian. Aurellia’s Elders were disgusting monsters. Elder Relech forced her to kill innocents under cover of dark, and Elder Rolovian tortured and killed creatures to harvest their blood and their life’s power? What nefarious things did Elder Raelles hold in store? And probably worse, what dark schemes did Aurellia have in mind for Talis? After all, the dark lord was the origin for all their dark magic.
Elder Raelles shouted, interrupting her thoughts, and cast a spell, causing an enormous, canvas curtain to appear at the entrance to the ship, separating them from the soldiers waiting in line on the gangplank. The curtain was so tall it jutted into the main sail which flapped lazily in the wind. Elder Rolovian held two vials as he sauntered over towards the curtain. Elder Relech, malice beaming from his eyes, went around the curtain and brought back two soldiers with bronzed and steeled faces. They stood in stiff attention and their faces beamed pride at being chosen first.
Mara felt a twisted lump form in her stomach as she watched the soldiers receive the vials from Elder Rolovian. Don’t drink it! Mara thought, as a sadistic curl formed on Elder Rolovian’s mouth.
“You are chosen as the elite soldiers of the realm!” shrieked Elder Rolovian. “First to partake in the Master’s power. Drink and feel the power surge through you!”
The soldiers saluted the Elders and gulped down the contents of the vials. Mara clenched her shirt as she saw the soldier’s smiles turn to winces of gut-wrenching pain. They fell to a fetal position on the floor, moaning and thrashing about in agony. The Elders clapped their hands in glee. One soldier stood and raised his hands in a desperate plea to the sky. Tears streamed down his face. Foam bubbled out of his mouth like a rabid dog.
Elder Rolovian cackled maniacally as the soldier’s bones made fracturing sounds, stretching and tearing ligaments as the man’s spine started expanding, arms and legs snapping out at joints, armor ripping apart. The muscles around the soldier’s neck bulged out in thick cords, lifting his head and causing his helm to splinter and clatter onto the deck. Man was becoming beast. The creature’s red eyes were riveted on Mara, causing her to shield her face from its seething fury; the thing’s hairy, massive fist pressed against the deck, while its body grew and grew and grew until nearly thirty feet tall.
The two man-beast creatures bellowed in triumph and power, then lowered their heads in submission to the three Elders standing in an arc of victory.
7. INTO THE LAIR
The light in the vision shone golden, illuminating the dragon’s black, metallic scales in a mesh of dancing radiance. Talis felt a wave of longing and familiarity wash over him as he stared into the dragon’s wise, ancient eyes. For a long while they just gazed each other down as the sound of water dripping into pools echoed off in the distance. Then the dragon spoke to his mind.
“Human and dragon? And a mage, as well? How very interesting…” The dragon snorted and belched fire and smoke into the dimly lit cave. “But why are you with that spoiled child? Aurellia the Immortal. Hah! His foolish father should have never allowed him the Zacrane Dagger. His tampering with the dark arts are better left alone, I said. He cannot be trusted, I said. Let him die, I said. But did the fool father listen? No, of course not. Since when do humans ever listen to the wisdom of dragons?
“Why have you come here and desecrated the hunting lands of the Valley of Caern? Was this your choice to feast on our sacred sheep, or did the spoiled child force you to hunt?”
Talis hung his head in shame. “It was both…I was starving—as a dragon—my first time feeding—”
“Your first time feeding? How is this possible?”
Talis told him the story of the Netherworld, and how he came about visiting that place, and of how he found his dragon form. And his first attempt at hunting. The poison and his death. His oath of fealty to Aurellia. The dragon’s eyes flared and his nostrils belched out smoke.
“Hmmph! So you were hungry, starving even, and Aurellia told you to hunt until your belly was full, to hunt in the fair glade of Ghaelstrom? But since you’ve sworn allegiance to the spoiled child I suppose you had no choice but to obey the fool, now did you? No I imagine you didn’t. Obey him or die. Or perhaps, he dies first? Then now that’s a different story altogether. Interesting indeed….”
“But how do you kill a man who’s already dead?”
“Dead? Oh he’s not really dead dead. Death Magic isn’t that complete. If he was, he’d be suffering in the Underworld with all the rest of his comrades and minions. There must be a way to kill him. There always is.”
“Don’t you know how to kill him?”
“Perhaps a long time ago I knew, but not now, not after four thousand years of his twisted studies in the black arts. Who knows what he’s discovered? Maybe he can’t be killed, like he claims. But can he be bound, imprisoned? Locked away in some light-filled chamber? Certainly he can be fooled.”
With that the dragon opened his great jaws and displayed beautiful, dagger-like teeth that shone golden in the cave light. As he laughed, tufts of fire shot from his mouth.
“And that’s why I’ve come to your dream, young dragon mage. Let’s fool him together, shall we? I am Dragon King Valeron of Ghaelstrom.”
And as the dragon told Talis his plan, a glimmer of hope brought a smile to his face for the first time in a very long while.
“Wake!” a shrill voice bellowed. “Wake up you lazy beast!”
Talis swatted away the source of the sound with a long wing and breathed out fire for good measure. Just leave me alone. Sleep. He needed sleep. Just a few more hours. The sun felt so warm on his scales.
A blast of wind knocked him sideways and launched him up into the air until he crashed onto the grassy hillside and went tumbling down in a furious blur. What the hell? He kept rolling, tumbling out of control, until he stretched out his wings and tried to slow his descent. But it was no use. The hillside dropped suddenly and he plummeted off a cliff and spiraled down and down until he slammed into a freezing lake.
The cold jarred him awake and he flapped his wings and swam towards the surface. He was in the hunting grounds. Aurellia had woken him from his deep slumber by knocking him off a cliff. Rage burned inside of him as he burst through the thin icy sheath of the lake’s blue surface. He flew up towards cottony, white clouds, stretching and beating his wings, and gazed at the vast mountain range, hoping to find the entrance to the dragon lair of Ghaelstrom.
Then he remembered the plan crafted by King Valeron, and Talis hovered for a while, scanning the Valley of Caern, and waited, knowing Aurellia would soon meet him. A light flickered off in the distant mountains, below a peak capped with ice. That must be the place, the cave mouth to Ghaelstrom. Were the dragons coming so soon to meet them?
“Finally, you’re awake!” shouted Aurellia, and he soared above where Talis hovered. “Let’s be on our way to Ghaelstrom.”
Talis motioned towards the mountain. “I spotted a light flickering over there.”
Aurellia sniffed the air and squinted, then gazed for a long while. “They know we’ve come. Let’s fly! Off to meet them.”
And with that, Aurellia sped off towards the peak, flying so fast that Talis had to cast a shadow spell several times to blink forward and keep up. The dark lord seemed intent on outpacing him, like he wanted to meet the dragons first. As they gained elevation, the cold wind stung Talis’s eyes, causing him to squint until only a sliver of light shone through. A wall of thick clouds momentarily separated him from Aurellia and the mountains. When he broke out on the other side, his breath caught in his throat at the sight: the beautiful mountain vista swept across his vision, marred by thousands of dark shapes descending towards them like a swarm of locusts.
The sky was filled with
dragons. And even Aurellia had stopped his flight and contemplated the terrible onslaught. Dragons massive, dragons fat, dragons puny yet vicious; electric blue and black and silver and emerald green; dragons breathing fire and smoke, dragons spewing ice and freezing mist, and dragons spitting acid and poison showers. Some dull, some metallic, and some glassy, those dragon scales, still blinding in the fury of the high mountain sunlight.
“Let me speak to them first!” Aurellia’s voice was determined and proud, as if confident of his authority with the dragons. Talis scoffed at the dark lord’s words, knowing otherwise. Let him feel like he actually has a chance of winning. Take the bait that’s been planned for you. Go ahead.
Surrounded by a wall of cold-eyed dragons, Aurellia still beamed assuredness, his body placid as a pond in the early hours of day. He scanned the crowd, amused, and settled on the Dragon King Valeron. The king’s brilliant green eyes flickered briefly to Talis, then returned to Aurellia. The dragon’s voice boomed across the sky.
“Why have you trespassed on our lands? Why have you come and hunted in the sacred Valley of Caern? How dare you smirk at me, betrayer of your people, the Lord of Night, Banished of Vellia.” Valeron spit a cloud of thick smoke over Aurellia, but the dark lord just breathed it in through his nostrils.
“And Lord of Ash, I see? Twisted you have become, over the long years. Powerful, and still ever incorrigible. And who is this young dragon you have compelled to ally with you?”
Aurellia’s cackle of a laugh echoed out across the sea of dragons, too long, until the dragon’s eyes narrowed suspiciously.
“Incorrigible? Yes, I suppose I am. That’s what my father and the Elders of Vellia always called me. They should have changed my name to Aurellia the Incorrigible. But what about being steadfast, true to one’s principles? They would have said that about me if I’d just nodded my head and agreed with their light-blinded fanaticism. King Valeron, you never agreed with them, did you? You vehemently disagreed with the Elders for altering the planet’s rotation, did you not? Your dragon brethren still suffer from the night winds, and no longer can you hunt in the shadows and feel the moon’s soft rays on your scales. All that was taken away from you.”
Dragon Mage (Blacklight Chronicles) Page 5
