Serpent Kings Saga (Omnibus Edition)

by James Somers

  “Within the hour, I’d say.” The young man looked past Ezekiah to me. “I see you’re still with us.” His tone wasn’t entirely friendly, sparking a reaction in me that I had to force back.

  “Yes, I thought I would come along for the ride,” I said.

  The young man gave Ezekiah a sidelong glance laced with warning. Ezekiah acted as though he hadn’t even noticed. He remained unthreatened by my presence. Despite myself, this made me like him even more. I realized that I was only making things harder. How would I manage to kill this man, if I became too friendly with him?

  Ezekiah grasped Tobias by the shoulders fondly. “Donavan, I was hoping you might take Tobias up to the engine and see if Arthur will teach him how to drive this beast.”

  Tobias responded instantly. “Really, could I?” The boy was practically jumping up and down with excitement. Donavan relaxed, then acquiesced.

  “I suppose I could arrange that,” he said. Then he and Tobias walked past me toward the door. Donavan offered one more concerned glance in our direction before he and the boy stepped down from the presidential car.

  “Your friend doesn’t like my being here,” I said bluntly. I felt no need to mince words.

  Ezekiah offered me a seat opposite him at one of the tables. There were only a few others present in the car with us. One of them, a bearded man, appeared to be setting up a small triage near the back of the car.

  “Honestly, Gwen, what do you expect?” he said. “Don’t forget you came here to kill me. Should they be glad for an assassin in our midst?”

  “I suppose not,” I admitted.

  “In fact, they may still find my dead body with you standing over it…as least if you’re not satisfied with my ability to answer your questions.”

  I did not reply. What was the point? I had threatened him and I still meant what I had said.

  He was silent for a moment, staring at me. I didn’t flinch, but it made me feel uncomfortable. He wasn’t smiling now.

  “Gwen,” he began, “do you mind if I ask you a question?”

  I couldn’t imagine what he would ask me, but I figured I could play dumb if I didn’t know the answer. “I thought I was the one to ask the questions.” When he didn’t respond, I said, “Go ahead.”

  He fixed his gaze on me, and then said, “Why do you worship the Serpent Kings?”

  This would be easier than I had thought. “Because they are gods,” I said. I started to elaborate, but he interrupted.

  “How do you know they are gods?” he asked.

  I did not have an immediate answer. The questions seemed simple enough, but I stammered. I wanted to say that this was what I had been taught, but I knew that answer would seem too simple. Anyone could say that about any made-up god. It didn’t seem sound when I thought about it. Then something obvious came to me.

  “They say that they are gods and they are the most powerful creatures in the world,” I said. “Why shouldn’t I believe them?”

  He grinned. “I’ll grant you that they are powerful creatures. Tell me, have you ever seen them raise someone from the dead?”

  I had never seen such a thing or heard of it. But how could I admit that to him considering what had just apparently happened on the mountain top? I redirected with a question of my own, hoping to make use of his pride. “Are you suggesting that you are a god, Ezekiah?”

  “Not at all,” he said. “I am only the servant of Elithias, an instrument in his hand and nothing more. However, if Elithias can raise the dead through a mere mortal servant, then isn’t he more powerful than the dragons who only claim to be gods and have not raised the dead?”

  I sat there for a long moment looking at him. My expression was as calm as I could manage under the circumstances. I felt angry because he had used simple logic to stump me. The questions didn’t seem that clever, and yet, I found myself unable to answer.

  Ezekiah sat staring at me, seeming completely relaxed. This was a game to him. I knew it. He was a clever trickster trying to confuse me. He was trying to back me into a corner so that I would abandon my long held beliefs in favor of a god no one had ever seen. Finally, I decided that I had had enough of the game.

  “I don’t believe you raised me from the dead, Ezekiah,” I said. “I think you somehow drugged me, and then you used me to make your followers believe that a miracle had happened so they would continue to follow you. Just look at what your hoax has done for them. They are planning to leave the safety of this mountain to spread the news. But they’ll all die, because the dragons will find them and destroy you all.”

  Ezekiah didn’t even flinch at my accusations.

  “Are you suggesting that Tobias did not shoot you?” he asked. “I thought you recognized him as the one who had shot you. If you were only drugged then tell me how I managed to do it. I’m a simple man, not a wraith dancer like you. How did I manage to overcome your enhanced senses in order to trick you that way?”

  I didn’t have a good answer, but it didn’t stop me from replying. I was angry now. “Does a magician inform his audience how he performed his sleight of hand?” I asked.

  “Can a magician conjure bullet wounds leading directly to your heart?” he answered.

  I stopped answering at that point. As if to punctuate Ezekiah’s statement, my chest began to ache in that very spot. I knew the scar was there. It had not been there before. A bullet wound could not have healed in four days. Yet the wound was now a fully healed scar directly over my heart.

  Ezekiah could see that I was uncomfortable. He smiled genuinely now. “I’m sorry, Gwen. I don’t mean to badger you. I just want you to see the truth for yourself. You have to think things out for yourself. I’m not asking you to believe something just because I say that it’s true. I hope you wouldn’t believe in the dragons for that same reason either. Examine all of the evidence.”

  I still couldn’t answer.

  “I can’t think of any better evidence, at the moment, than that scar on your chest. Elithias has touched you and given you back your life…a second chance to someone who has been ignorant of him their whole life. Don’t you think he deserves some consideration?”

  Though it startled me, I was very thankful when the locomotive began to move beneath us. The engine jerked the cars which followed along. Outside the windows, the torch lit cavern began to pass by and eventually fall behind.

  Ezekiah had paid little attention to it. He was still focused on me as though I might have something to add. I didn’t. I had no idea what to say. At the moment, I couldn’t defeat his logic, but I was determined not to give up. All that I had lived my life believing could not be a lie. I barely noticed the tear welling on the edge of my eyelid before it escaped. Just in time I caught it with a rub of my sleeve, hoping Ezekiah had not seen my weakness.

  If he noticed, he didn’t let on that he had. His gaze was now cast out the windows as the last of the massive cavern passed away. The lamps were lit already in our car. Ezekiah rolled up the wick, making it brighter just before the tunnel with its impenetrable darkness swallowed us whole.

  FLIGHT

  Zora stood trembling next to the High Priest within Belial’s private chamber. They did not speak to one another. One did not hold idle conversation while waiting for the High Serpent King to address you. This summons under different circumstances would have been a rare privilege; a once in a lifetime opportunity.

  A thunderous roar resounded throughout the cavernous room. Belial’s massive form began to slip from the dark recesses into the light of the huge pyre burning down below the shelf where they were standing. Zora had seen the dragon from a distance—many people had—but the fierceness of his countenance this close drove her instantly to her knees in terror.

  “Elder Mother Zora, I have summoned you here because of the young wraith dancer I commanded to assassinate Ezekiah the Prophet.”

  Zora couldn’t help herself speaking. “Does she live, my lord?”

  Belial did not reprimand her speaking out of
turn, though the High Priest almost did.

  “She lives,” Belial thundered. “However, she has been captured by Ezekiah and his followers. The others I sent with her have failed at their tasks and fallen. Ezekiah is a dangerous foe. It would seem that my wraith dancers underestimate our enemies.”

  “What should we do, my lord?” the High Priest asked, hoping that he would receive no reprimand for his question either.

  “I will send thirty of your finest wraith dancers to the mountains of Urtah,” Belial said. “There you will retrieve my priestess, Gwen, and destroy Ezekiah and his foul reprobates.”

  Zora hesitated, but then mustered her courage for a final question. “My lord, please forgive my ignorance, but I had thought Gwen was sent to Thorn Mountain.”

  “My eyes are in every place, Elder Mother Zora,” Belial said. “I have seen the Rebels massing in the Urtah Mountains, building their army with the hope of overthrowing the Serpent Kings and my rule. They would destroy the paradise we have created for you; all in the name of their vile god, Elithias. I have commanded Moloch to escort you and your warriors, Zora. There you will retrieve, priestess Gwen and kill both Ezekiah the Prophet and his second in command, Varen. My High Priest and his fellows will prepare the harnesses you must wear in order to fly with Moloch.”

  Zora felt her heart sink into her stomach. She had heard of wraith dancers flying attached to the back and sides of a dragon, but she had never been required to do it herself. Her time had finally come.

  She tried to push her anxiety aside. After all, this was her opportunity to rescue Gwen from the villainous prophet, Ezekiah, before it was too late. Zora could not fathom how three experienced wraith dancers had been killed by these people, but it wasn’t the first time assassins had failed to kill the man.

  “You must be ready to fly by dawn tomorrow,” Belial commanded. “Now, go and do not fail me.”

  Zora got to her feet with the High Priest. They both bowed to the dragon as they backed away toward the doors of the chamber. In her mind, Zora was already formulating a list of the best surviving wraith dancers she knew. Finally, after years of serving as an Elder Mother, her opportunity had come to once again lead warriors to battle. She would not waste it.

  Before the sun came up the next day, Zora had her strike team assembled. Thirty of the most fearsome warriors from among the High Guard in Babale had gathered outside the palace on the East Lawn. As commanded, the High Priest had made harnesses available to them for the operation. Each harness worn by a wraith dancer was made of sturdy thick leather straps with steel buckles that allowed them to clip onto steel rings on the harness Moloch would already be wearing.

  Her team had assembled as the first rays of sunlight began to appear over the mountains eastward. Coming out of the sun, Zora caught the first glimpse of the mighty black dragon, his wings beating every ten seconds in order to keep his great bulk aloft. “Everyone get ready!” Zora cried. She bowed and left her thanks with the High Priest who had come out to see the dragon and see them safely away.

  In fact, a great many more priests of Belial had come than was actually necessary. Zora knew why they were here. They wanted to see the dragon in the flesh. Even though many had been privileged to see Belial as part of their service to him, they rarely got to see any of the other dragon gods.

  Now, they stood afar off as Moloch approached. Out of all of the dragons, Moloch had the fiercest reputation. Though many wraith dancers did not know of it, Moloch had been sent by Belial years ago to wipe out a large group of rebels massing in the northeast territory. Even in his patron city, Tarris, he was greatly feared.

  Zora watched as the dragon swept down toward them like a massive living shadow. Even with the sun coming over the mountains, his great body and outspread wings cast the entire palace in darkness.

  He roared once. A terrifying howl combined with the piercing sound of twisting metal. The ground shook with Moloch’s landing, like an earthquake threatening to tear down the nearby palace. Zora and the others had mere minutes to crawl across the dragon’s harness and attach themselves. They had been trained to do it, but it was rare to actually have a need. Zora raced up the dragon’s net-like harness with the other wraith dancers following—young spiders crawling across their mother’s abdomen. She found a place near the base of Moloch’s neck and fastened her harness to the dragon’s harness.

  All of her team had been required to wear leather breeches for this journey since Moloch’s scales felt like plates of stone. When they were all aboard, Zora called out to the dragon. He stretched his wings, like the sails of a great ship, for takeoff. With several powerful strokes his massive wings pounded the air downward and lifted them all into the air.

  Nausea swept over several of the women as they went aloft, jostled about roughly by the great dragon. Zora heard their retching as vomit spilled over Moloch’s side several times. It was messy business, but Moloch paid them no mind as he leveled out very high above the ground, heading for the Urtah Mountains in the far distance; only visible now as small peaks above the horizon.

  MARCHING

  Varen flexed his wounded shoulder. Though it felt stiff, he could still use his arm which was comforting. There would be many battles ahead as he used Ezekiah’s weapons to storm the patron cities of the dragons. As he led his army through the rugged terrain of the Urtah Mountains, he carried only his sword on his back and several pistols tucked into his belt. Jillian followed behind, keeping his pace easily.

  Nordin had resisted Varen’s request that he remain behind at their fortified encampment in the caverns, claiming he could keep up without any problem. But Varen knew his mentor had been experiencing increasing difficulties with stiff joints and lethargy. His many years were finally catching up to him, but he was too proud to admit it.

  Three hundred warriors trekked along behind Varen and Jillian, like a serpent winding through the rocky mountainside. This was the third day since arriving at the caverns, organizing his men and leaving again with Ezekiah’s map leading the way toward the weapons the prophet’s father had stored long ago. “We’re close!” Varen called to his men marching behind.

  Jillian caught up to him and took a look at the map. “Do you see the cave?”

  Varen surveyed the area while his men stopped for a rest, their line beginning to disorganize as the soldiers relieved and refreshed themselves. “It should be here,” Varen said.

  Jillian looked, but she enhanced her sight through the Gifts of Transcendence. Ahead, below an overhanging shelf of rock, a small cave drove down beneath the face of the mountain. The entrance was shrouded in shadow, easy to overlook. “I see it,” she said. “It’s there beneath that overhang.”

  Varen followed her gaze, seeing only the rock and the shadows beneath. But he trusted Jillian’s gifts. He called back to his men immediately. “We’re going to need some rope!”

  It had taken nearly half an hour to construct an appropriate rig that could maneuver a single person down and in toward the cave. Simply dropping down would leave you on a sheer cliff face with no way of getting up to the cave entrance. With Varen’s shoulder still healing, Jillian had insisted that she be the one to drop into the cave first. Varen had put up some resistance to the idea at first, but in the end he couldn’t argue with her qualifications.

  Who better than a wraith dancer? After all, she had just saved him and Nordin from two assassins on the road. She kissed him and allowed some of the men to lower her down by the rope and harness they had cobbled together. She threw another line with a grapple down into the cave and pulled until it pulled her over. Jillian managed to get a hold on the upper lip of the cave which was only big enough to accommodate two people in at a time.

  Once she was inside, Jillian used another sturdy length of rope carried down with her to secure inside the cave. She found a suitable outcrop of rock and made the line sure. Jillian took her lamp and started back through the cave. It descended steadily, but soon revealed a set of stairs cut by human han
ds.

  Jillian smiled in the soft glow of lamplight. She ran back through the narrow passage until she came to the entrance. “We’ve found it, Varen!” she shouted. “This is it!”

  Varen led his troop down the narrow stair, winding through the rock within the mountain. A line of lamps and torches followed like a river of fire flowing down into the belly of the Earth. The deeper they went, the more anxious Varen grew. What would they find? An empty cavern or a treasure trove of wonders from the ancient world. He hoped the latter, but he didn’t want to pin all of his hopes to it.

  He intended, no matter what, to work out a way to attack the dragons and free those who were oppressed by them. Ezekiah may have held a purely religious vision for the kingdom, but Varen was more practical. The dragons were wicked oppressors and he meant to see their reign come to an end. Varen looked forward to a day when man did not bow themselves to anyone; least of all the Serpent Kings.

  Hours seemed to pass as they descended into the dark. Varen had no way to know how long they had been walking the stairs, no way to know if it was day or night outside. Finally the stairs ended, and the path stretched out before him on a relatively level plane. “We must be close,” he said to Jillian. She had remained close to him the entire way.

  “I hope there’s actually something here worth making this journey for,” she said next to his ear so that the men following would not hear.

  Varen smiled, though she didn’t see it. “My dear, I may not agree with Ezekiah’s philosophy, but he’s no fool. He would not keep a map locked away to an empty cave.” Varen trudged on through the dark with his lamp in hand. The more he thought about Ezekiah’s treatment of the map the more sure he felt in having made this expedition.

  Suddenly, Varen noticed a breeze brushing his face. His lamp light began to flicker even within the bell. He paused, forcing everyone behind to do the same in order to avoid colliding with their neighbors in line. Jillian held her torch up, watching the flame dance upon its head. “Wind,” she said. “Why would there be wind down here?”