Eyes of the Dragon (The Chronicles of Dragon, Series 2, Book 4) (Tail of the Dragon)

by Craig Halloran

  Rubbing his wrists, he sat back down and said, “Someone will come. Someone.” With the cool rock against his back, he relaxed. He’d been so uncomfortable in his shackles that he’d barely caught any sleep. Leaning a little on his brother, he drifted off into a deep sleep.

  A ring of keys jingled. Rerry’s mind started to awaken, but he didn’t register what was happening. His eyes peeked open, and as if he was in a dream, the door swung open, concealing them behind it.

  Is this really happening? I can’t move. I don’t want to move. I want to sleep.

  Two elven guards appeared in the crack between the door and the cave. With swords on their hips and wearing the cloth tunics of soldier’s uniforms, they ventured forth with a bucket of water and a tray of food.

  Rerry’s nose twitched. The smell of food aroused his senses.

  I smell meat on the plate.

  His stomach groaned.

  The elven guardsmen set the food and water down and turned.

  In Elven, one said, “What’s that?”

  At the same time, the other elven guard said, “Who’s there?”

  Finding new strength, Rerry burst out of his corner. Just as the nearest elf went for his sword, Rerry hit him in the jaw and knocked him out.

  Whap!

  Desperate for freedom, Rerry used his bigger body to overpower the second, smaller elf. Using a move taught to him by his brother, he locked the elf up by the neck and silenced him in a sleeper hold. The elf’s kicks subsided, and he too went out. Chest heaving, Rerry shoved the elf aside, grabbed the bucket of water, and guzzled it down.

  “Ah!”

  He scarfed down some of the hard bread and dried fruit. After taking care of himself, he did what he could for Samaz. Surprisingly, his brother—asleep with fever for all intents and purposes—nibbled down the food. Rerry poured some water down his brother’s throat, too.

  Sputtering and coughing, Samaz sat up.

  “I thought that might wake you from your nap,” Rerry said.

  “Yes, a dream of drowning usually does.” Samaz grabbed the bucket and guzzled between gasps. “Thank you. How did we escape here?”

  “Don’t you remember the dragons?”

  “I hardly remember anything.”

  “Figures.” Rerry made his way over to one of the guards and buckled on the sword belt. He slid the sword from the sheath and cut it through the air in a few intricate patterns. Eyeing the blade, he said, “At least it’s elven.”

  Samaz crawled up the wall to his feet. He looked through the open door and back at the guards lying on the stone floor. “You didn’t kill them, did you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Rerry!”

  “Will you keep your voice down?” Rerry put on one of the guards’ uniforms, but the cloth tunic was very tight on him. The almond-shaped steel skullcap fit fine. “No, they’re only out cold—and just so you know, I used one of your moves.”

  Donning the other tunic, barely, Samaz said, “Ah, you used the sleeper.”

  “Begrudgingly. So are you fit for the journey?”

  “No.” Samaz coughed. “But I’m not going to let feeling like ogre stew warmed over stop me.”

  Rerry tried to hand his brother the other elf guard’s sword.

  “No.”

  “Just strap it on. We’ll need to blend in at some point, I imagine.” Rerry planted the other elven helmet on Samaz’s head. With effort, he got it down to his brother’s ears, but it still looked too small. “You and that melon head. If I didn’t know our parents for certain, I’d swear you were part orc. You’re built like a chimney. What kind of elf is built like that?”

  “A durable one.” Samaz stepped aside. “Lead the way, Rerry.”

  “And am I to assume we’re going back after the Ocular of Orray?”

  “Do ducks have feathers?”

  “It was your wild idea that got us captured in the first place.”

  “Oh, you like it.”

  “Well, I do, but only because it actually sounded like something I would do, not you,” Rerry said. “So, shall we attempt to defy all odds again?”

  “Anything for Mother,” Samaz replied.

  CHAPTER 33

  Balzurth caught the stone giant’s fist coming down at him like a hammer. He had popped his dragon claws out of his human fingers, and now he dug them into the giant’s hard flesh and yanked the giant face first into the stone slab.

  BLAM!

  “Don’t you run, Rybek! Don’t you run!” Balzurth ducked under a metal urn that whizzed over his head.

  Bletver was throwing everything he could get his hands on at him.

  “You stay out of my way, triant! I’ll turn you into cinders.” Balzurth caught Rybek creeping behind the stone slab with his sword out. “Surrender and find mercy, Rybek. This is your last chance.”

  Wurmers dropped from the ceiling. Fierce and nasty, the mindless things clawed and slashed.

  Chest-high in wurmers, Balzurth poured it on. Now transfigured into part dragon and part man, Balzurth had covered himself in red and gold scales from head to toe. He busted the wurmers in their snouts and slung them away by their tails. Nothing was going to stop him from getting Rybek and the amulet. No, he wasn’t going to let his plan fail. He was so close, he couldn’t let this chance slip away.

  A stone giant closed in, lifting its man-sized foot to stomp Balzurth into the floor.

  The Dragon King pulled a wurmer by the tail under the giant’s foot in his stead.

  The wurmer’s scales crunched and squished. Black ooze squirted out.

  Hopping on one foot, the giant wailed. His skin sizzled and crackled from the acidic blood of the wurmer.

  A wurmer pounced on Balzurth. Claws raked his scaled chest.

  He laughed. “You mindless thing.” He threw his arm around the wurmer’s neck and snapped it like a twig. He caught Rybek running for one of the temple’s many exits. He plowed through the sea of wurmers, shoving and throwing them aside.

  But when Balzurth veered for the tunnel, the entrance was blocked off by Bletver’s surprisingly agile bulk.

  “Let’s have a go at it again,” Bletver sneered. He beckoned with his finger. “I’d love a trophy from the King of the Dragons. My, those scales and claws will look fantastic about my neck.”

  “You had your chance, triant. Now your doom is at hand.” Balzurth filled his lungs with air, stoking the furnace inside his belly. Smoke puffed out of his nose, and Bletver’s narrowed eyes widened. “Goodbye, Bletver. So long, evil one!”

  But just then, the phantom dropped onto Balzurth, clouding his eyes and dousing his flames.

  He dropped to his hands and knees, clutching at his throat and fighting for breath. The essence of the phantom’s power attacked his mind and spirit. Probed his weaknesses. Exposed his failures. A flicker of doubt entered Balzurth’s mind, and the phantom drove its poison deep into his heart. He saw his plan slipping through his fingers. He wanted to use the amulet to appear right in front of Eckubahn, turn his full powers loose, and destroy the unsuspecting titan once and for all. He let out a roar!

  CHAPTER 34

  A loud roar erupted from inside the temple, shaking the bridge. Bayzog stumbled.

  At his side, Ben helped him up to his feet. “What was that?”

  “Pain,” Bayzog replied. “Anguish.” He found new strength in his legs after hearing the desperate cry.

  Ben had him by the arm, and stride for stride they were racing up the bridge. Carefully, they hugged the entryway wall and slipped unnoticed into the chamber.

  A fierce battle was on. Wurmers agitated together in an angry hive. Two stone giants slammed huge clubs down over and over with wroth force. Perhaps most ominous of all, a cloud of blackness lingered in the air.

  Ben inched forward.

  Bayzog grabbed him by the arm. “Too dangerous. That phantom has him. I need my staff.”

  Puffing out smoke, Ben said, “I can’t hold whatever’s in me much longer. I’m about
to explode.”

  “What did you drink?’

  “That fire-breathing potion.” Ben’s eyes glowed with the fires of a volcano. “I have to do something.”

  “True, you cannot hold that fire in for long, or it will incinerate you from the inside. Hold it for just a moment.” Bayzog closed his eyes and narrowed his focus, blocking out the clamor of battle that filled the chamber like the inside of a ringing bell. He sensed his staff. It was within the temple, but the temple had many chambers. Several paths. He opened his eyes and touched Ben. “You should come with me.”

  “No, I have a feeling I need to help whoever that is in there.” Ben clasped Bayzog on the arm, shook it, and said, “You’re just going to have to go your way and I’ll go mine. Best to you, Bayzog.”

  “Best to you, Ben.”

  CHAPTER 35

  A roar of anguish echoed through the valley. Flocks of birds scattered out of the branches. The horses came to a stop and reared up. Brenwar and the women were staring at Nath, who said, “Father!”

  Dragon heart pumping, Nath doubled his pace, racing through the valley toward the Temple of Spires at full speed. He had heard plenty of sounds from his father, but never any of pain. It didn’t seem possible. He veered off the path and cut into the forest, bursting through the low-hanging branches and leaving the others far behind him.

  I might not be able to fly, but I can certainly run like the fastest gazelle. Hang in there, Father. Hang on!

  It was surreal, his father being in peril. The Dragon King was invincible. Wasn’t he?

  Nath hit the bottom of the hill and was back on the overgrown path to the Temple of Spires. He could see the temple’s jagged peaks stabbing at the clouds. That wasn’t all. Nath wasn’t the only one who had been attracted by Balzurth’s roar.

  A gigantic wurmer as big as Nath ever saw circled above. It landed on the other side of the temple’s bridge. Its eyes glowed with red fire that bored into him. Behind the ancient archway it waited, opening its mouth to roar every so often.

  Nath slid out Fang, shouting, “Dragon! Dragon!” Shoulders set, he charged.

  CHAPTER 36

  Filled with the same fear every warrior gets before battle, Ben hurried across the chamber toward the sacrificial slab. His body was so hot he felt as if he might burst into fire at any moment.

  I can’t hold this in.

  Stepping out from beyond the phantom’s blackness and the battling throng of wurmers, Bletver emerged. The triant’s face was filled with a bestial delight. “You again? Mmm, another morsel for my belly. And the timing couldn’t be better. All of this fighting makes me very hungry.”

  Swallowing down the flaming butterflies that stirred in his stomach, Ben pulled himself up onto the stone slab and faced Bletver. Forcing down the stammer in his throat, he said, “If you’re so hungry, then what are you waiting for?” He did a little jig, feet tapping and elbows swinging. “Come and eat me, ugly!”

  Bletver’s brows buckled. He bared his teeth, chomped them, and said, “I’ve had all I can stand of you idiotic people. I don’t know what trick you’re up to, but I’m not taking any chances with delay.” He reached for Ben.

  Ben huffed a big breath and blew it, but no fire came out.

  Bletver seized him in his powerful grip and jerked him up off the slab. “This time I’m going to ensure you are dead.” He smashed Ben down onto the stone table.

  A whoosh of fire came out of Ben’s mouth.

  It spread up the triant’s arms, and he let go. “Agh! What have you done to me?”

  Gulping in another lungful of air, Ben let out another flaming burst, covering Bletver’s bulging body in flames.

  The triant flailed and screamed wildly, but somehow, he caught sight of Ben and came right back after him again, shouting in rage at the flames that sizzled the skin on his body, “I’m going to kill you!”

  Ben let out another gust.

  A stream of fire covered the giant’s face.

  “Nooooooo!” Bletver yelled.

  How that bloodthirsty giant saw him through the flames on his face, Ben didn’t know, but somehow it came right at him. Ben dove off the sacrificial stone slab.

  Bletver caught Ben’s leg and held him fast. “I might die, but you will die with me.” Drawing him in with Ben’s pants catching fire, Bletver let out another phrase. “Let’s burn together!”

  ***

  With all of the commotion, Bayzog pressed his advantage. He muttered a spell he’d not used in a long time. It wasn’t an aggressive one, rather something passive but helpful. Feeling endowed with new powers, his vision sharpened and refocused. His keen senses were all enhanced. Moving quickly, robes dusting the ground, he followed the beacon of magic he sensed into one of the corridors that branched off from the main chamber.

  There it is.

  A slightly translucent trail lingered in the hall like a dying will o’ the wisp. Careful not to be followed, he chased after it. The corridor led him into another passage cut from the stones and ended in a chamber that spread out into many alcoves. The mystic vapor trail came to a stop inside the blackness of a small cavern.

  Breathing softly, Bayzog advanced into the darkness. If not for his elven vision and the help of the spell, he’d have been as blind as a bat and not nearly as effective. Shoulder grazing the wall, he followed the trail. His toe clipped something that rattled on the floor.

  I’m as good at sneaking as I am at hand-to-hand fighting.

  It was a skeleton, one of many that were strewn over the chamber floor. At first, the wizard thought they’d been dead for centuries, but the tang of blood and the stench of rotting flesh lingered in the air. He covered his nose with his hand and ambled on. Inside the alcove, the Staff of Elderwood leaned back against the wall. Ghost white from the spell, he saw it and not much of anything else to note.

  Inching forward, testing the hard floor with his toes, he thought, “It can’t be this easy.”

  Arms outstretched, he reached for it. His fingertips stroked the smooth elder wood. He wrapped his fingers around the long shaft, and his old friend felt alive in his hand. He shuddered. He had never hugged his staff before, but he wanted to now.

  Scraping caught his ears, and he turned back.

  Wurmers slithered out of the other alcoves. Their purple eyes were a burning haze as their talon-covered paws scratched toward him. Heads low and teeth clacking, they converged on him in a frenzy.

  CHAPTER 37

  Wind whistling through his ears, hair waving in a banner of flame, Nath’s legs churned like a chariot’s wheels, thundering into battle. Nothing was going to get between him and his father no matter how big or strong it was. Nothing!

  The monstrous wurmer’s long neck coiled back. Black smoke spilled from its nostrils. Its horned head shot forward and turned loose a radiating pulse of energy. The scale-searing blast took Nath’s feet out from under his body and sent him sailing over the railing and into the mouth of the bottomless canyon.

  In midair, he clutched at anything he could get his hand on and caught himself on a beam that dangled beneath the bridge. Squeezing, his fingertips dug in. With one arm he hoisted himself up and managed to crawl up the beam with Fang still secure in his other hand. Taking a glimpse below, he saw nothing but a black abyss.

  I’ve never wanted my wings back more.

  He shimmied up the beam and into the arch under the bridge. Wedging himself into the stonework, he caught his breath.

  Whew.

  The wurmer’s head lowered from above, twisting from side to side. Its nostrils snorted and flared.

  Nestled in his spot between the beams, Nath pressed as deep into the crevice as he could. All he could do was hide. Without any footing underneath, he couldn’t risk taking a swing. He would fall into the abyss.

  What a predicament.

  He started to ease Fang into his back scabbard.

  Just then, the wurmer slipped off the bridge with a roar and vanished into the fog that spiraled like
a tornado, its growls echoing deep in the canyon.

  Nath made his move. Feet dangling over a certain death, arm over arm he climbed from beam to beam, making his way to the top.

  Hurry, Nath, hurry. You’re faster than this.

  A wild ape couldn’t have climbed any faster. His hands gripped the stones, and he began pulling himself up onto the bridge.

  The wurmer exploded from under the mist with its jaws wide open, a huge fish chomping at the bait.

  Fastened to the rail of the bridge, there was nowhere for Nath to go as the wurmer’s maw closed in. He flung himself off the bridge and into the dragon’s mouth.

  Chomp!

  CHAPTER 38

  Clasping the Elderwood Staff where it stood in front of him, Bayzog stretched out his fingers. Tendrils of lightning exploded from his fingertips into the nearest wurmer. The white-hot bolt of energy shot right through its scales and spread from wurmer to wurmer in an expanding chain of light.

  The monsters screeched and howled. Their scales smoked. The first one exploded, and the others dried up and crumbled to the floor.

  Head sagging, the half elf panted. His own magic was gone for now. And all he had was the staff. He slogged forward, brushing by one of the wurmers.

  There was life in its eye, and its tail twitched. Its neck stretched out and its mouth opened. The bottom of its jaw fell off.

  He poked it in the nose with his staff.

  Its body quavered and fell into a pile of scale and bones that finally turned to dust.

  I hate those things.

  Bayzog trudged back to the chamber with heavy shoulders and legs that felt like lead. He felt old. The phantom’s drain had cost him, yet he lived. Staff in one hand, braced against the wall, he peeked into the chamber. The blackness still lingered in the back end, yet there were fire and screaming near the slab.