Judgment of the Dragon (Book 7 of 10): Dragon Fantasy Series (Tail of the Dragon)

by Craig Halloran

  Judgment of the Dragon

  The Chronicles of Dragon, Series 2, Book 7

  By Craig Halloran

  Judgment of the Dragon

  The Chronicles of Dragon, Series 2, Book 7

  By Craig Halloran

  Copyright © 2016 by Craig Halloran

  Amazon Edition

  TWO-TEN BOOK PRESS

  P.O. Box 4215, Charleston, WV 25364

  ISBN eBook: 978-1-941208-93-9

  ISBN Paperback: 978-1-941208-94-6

  www.craighalloran.com

  Cover Illustration by Joe Shawcross

  Map by Gillis Bjork

  Edited by Cherise Kelley

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted, in any form, or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recorded, photocopied, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the copyright owner, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review.

  Publisher's Note

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Table of Contents

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17

  CHAPTER 18

  CHAPTER 19

  CHAPTER 20

  CHAPTER 21

  CHAPTER 22

  CHAPTER 23

  CHAPTER 24

  CHAPTER 25

  CHAPTER 26

  CHAPTER 27

  CHAPTER 28

  CHAPTER 29

  CHAPTER 30

  CHAPTER 31

  CHAPTER 32

  CHAPTER 33

  CHAPTER 34

  CHAPTER 35

  CHAPTER 36

  CHAPTER 37

  CHAPTER 38

  CHAPTER 39

  CHAPTER 40

  CHAPTER 41

  CHAPTER 42 (Epilogue)

  NOTES

  Characters & monsters

  About the Author

  MAP

  CHAPTER 1

  Selene the former high priestess of Barnabus, Sansla Libor the cursed elven roamer king turned white winged ape, and Gorlee the changeling in the form of a middle-aged man slunk through the forest. Leaves gently fell from the trees they passed. A soft rain came from above, and an eerie evening fog began to rise from below. Selene couldn’t see her feet. She slunk through the trees, eyes alert on the ground and branches. They’d been chasing after the titan Tylabahn. The evil spirit now possessed the body of a stone giant and moved toward Narnum to warn the lead titan, Eckubahn, that one of the nests of a wurmer queen had been destroyed. They’d been chasing after the giants for hours, but the trail had gone cold.

  Where could that giant be?

  Swishing her tail over the ground, she cleared the fog away. She could feel impressions in the ground with her tail the same way she might feel cuts in a table with the swipe of her finger. The black tendril eased over the landscape, side to side. Selene’s eyes scanned the ground as well. She was hoping to see a footprint. Instead, there was only a rut where the trunk of a tree lay rotting. “Certainly the giant didn’t sprout wings and take flight,” she said.

  Standing nearby, Sansla inspected the branches with his hands. Gorlee wasn’t far from Sansla, following suit. Bright-green eyes looked up, piercing the high branches. He blinked several times.

  “This is truly perplexing. I don’t claim to be a tracker of any sort, but the thought of losing a giant, a man the size of ten, is…er…embarrassing?”

  “That’s an understatement.” She scratched her temple with her index finger. “Especially considering there are two of them. Sansla? Anything?”

  Sansla approached her. His hulking seven-foot-plus build dwarfed that of Selene and Gorlee. He extended his open palm, revealing a handful of small green leaves and red berries.

  “You found something.”

  “I’m an elven roamer, one of the greatest trackers in the world. It’s natural that I found something.” He took a berry, stuck it in his mouth, and chewed. “Anglon berries. They are a great sustaining substance and very rare.” He offered his hand. “Refresh yourself with some? The leaves make a great thirst quencher, too.”

  “This is all you have? I’m not hungry. I want to stop that monster.”

  “This substance will help clear your thoughts. It will gain you more focus.”

  “Am I to understand that you have lost the trail as well as I?” she said, watching him slowly chew.

  Sansla swallowed. “As difficult as it is for me to admit, yes.”

  Clenching her fists, Selene said, “Ugh! This can’t be happening.” She certainly wasn’t a tracker the likes of Nath Dragon, Sansla, or Brenwar, but she’d still grown better than most. “I can’t believe this.”

  Gorlee stepped into the group. “May I try some of those, er, what do you call them?”

  “Anglon berries,” Sansla replied. “Please, help yourself.”

  As the changeling reached for the food in Sansla’s paw of a hand, Selene slapped the berries and leaves up into the air. “Forget your precious substance! We need to find those giants!”

  Shrugging, Sansla dusted his hairy hands off with the mannerisms of a noble. “Certainly, Selene. Perhaps it is time I took a bird’s eye view of things.”

  She stroked her tail, which rested over her shoulder. The last thing she wanted was for them to be sighted by the wurmers that dominated the skies, searching for dragons. But with night coming, it might not be such a bad idea. “Let’s keep moving while I think on it a bit.”

  “Certainly. I think we can all agree that the titan moves toward Narnum. That was the direction we went until the trail went cold. I’ve lost trails before, but persistence has always paid off.” Sansla bent over and picked up some of the leaves and berries. He handed them over to Gorlee. “That’s assuming the titan hasn’t summoned some other trickery we’re unaware of. The stone giants don’t make a scent, and like so many giants, they have unique powers. We need to move quickly but be wary.”

  “Then start moving quickly.” Selene gave Sansla a shove. “I don’t care for all this talking.”

  Gorlee perked up. “Mmmm, these berries really are good. Sansla, what did you call them again?”

  Selene slapped the berries out of his hand. “Keep the lips shut and the feet moving.”

  With a frown, Gorlee moved after Sansla, with Selene following in the rear. She didn’t like how things were going. At the rate they moved, they should have caught up with Tylabahn an hour ago. Now, it felt like she’d only gotten farther away. What if Tylabahn isn’t going north? Perhaps she went another way.

  On soft feet, the small group weaved through the trees and brush. The night fog thickened and rose. Selene lost track of Sansla and Gorlee from time to time, only to catch them in her sight moments later. Sansla was so quiet she had to focus to even hear him breathe. Gorlee, on the other hand, was a little sloppy with his movements, but still quiet nonetheless. She wandered up to them. The ape and changeling studied a river o
f fog that barred their path. She wouldn’t have known it was a river if not for the sound of water rushing under the fog. It was at least fifty feet from one side to the other.

  “Have you ever crossed through here before?” she asked Sansla.

  “I’ve traversed countless rivers in my travels. Some run very deep, but most of them don’t.” Sansla eased forward. “This one I’m not so sure about. I can fly you over.”

  “There’s no need for chivalry, Sansla. I can handle getting a little wet.” She surged in front of him. “Besides, my scales shed water.”

  “Ladies first then, but I will be close behind.”

  Selene waded ankle deep into the water. The icy stream filled the rim of her boots. She kept going until she was knee deep. Sansla was her shadow. Gorlee sloshed in behind both of them, saying with a shiver, “Now that’s chilly!”

  Selene shushed him. “What did I say about those lips of yours?”

  “Sorry,” Gorlee replied.

  The farther she went, the higher the river surged around her waist. At what Selene felt was the halfway point, she slowed. The direction of the waters shifted. She glanced backward. Sansla’s head was cocked to one side. Gorlee was nowhere to be found. “Where’s Gorlee?”

  Emerging through the fog, Gorlee said, “I’m here.”

  “Stay close and keep moving.” Selene pushed through the water a few more feet and came to an abrupt stop. A pylon of some sort jutted out of the stream, blocking her path.

  “What is it?” Gorlee said.

  “I don’t know. We’ll go around.”

  The pylon moved.

  She froze. A shiver went up her elbows.

  The water erupted. Huge arms blasted out of the water and scooped up Gorlee in one swipe.

  In a flash, Selene snaked out her sword. “It’s the giants!”

  CHAPTER 2

  Lotuus had left.

  Locked up arm in arm with his family, Bayzog reached deep into his mind, searching for a fragment of the magic that resided within him. His elbows were looped with Sasha on one side and Rerry on the other, with Samaz right across from him. He envisioned a spring of energy coursing from his stomach and feeding the rest of his body. His brow knitted. Sweat ran from his temple to his chest. The minutes passed without a spark. He opened his eyes and sighed through his nose.

  Samaz was looking right at Bayzog. His son was a beefier version of him with the same violet eyes and far more meat on his bones. The young adult was mysterious, even to Bayzog. Both of them were quiet people, but Samaz operated on a deeper intuitive level. There was power behind his violet eyes, deep and unsearchable.

  With a grunt, Sasha leaned into him. Her pretty eyes were saying it was fine, to have faith. He was looking up when a clamor arose above. Bits of debris drifted onto their heads and into their gazing eyes. It wasn’t a good sound. There were cries and cheers that brought doom.

  I have to do something!

  He squeezed his eyes shut.

  Reach deep, Bayzog! Reach deep!

  With his hands tied and his lips gagged, and without some object to focus through such as the Elderwood Staff, it was unlikely he could summon his power. And even if he did, he wouldn’t be able to control it. That would be dangerous.

  Unbridled magic could destroy me or, even worse, my family.

  Samaz grunted.

  Bayzog remained in deep thought. He started to block out everything and imagined himself before a cauldron of fiery power.

  This is my magic. I will take it.

  Rerry gave him a hard tug. His eyes snapped open. Glaring at his son, his widened eyes asked, “What?”

  His fair-headed son cast his gaze at Samaz.

  He looked. Samaz’s eyes had become violet infernos. The burning irises of energy sought Bayzog’s own. He looked right into Samaz’s eyes while at the same time clutching Sasha’s hand. Her amulet lit up, and they all three connected. The magic inside Bayzog awakened. His own eyes flared up like the violet stars in the sky. Their energies merged. Samaz’s power was a stampede of wild horses.

  Samaz, can you hear me?

  I can! I can’t control it, Father!

  Listen to me. Follow my voice.

  A sharp crackle caught Bayzog’s ear. His face started to heat up. Samaz had unlocked his magic, and it began to run wild in the dungeon cell. The rock walls trembled and split. With their eyes locked together, Bayzog added, Feed your power to me. I will shape it. Give it purpose. Give it form.

  Samaz loosed more of what he had.

  Bayzog’s head kicked back. His knees wobbled. Samaz’s seeping power started to pour into him. His body trembled. He raced through the spells he knew by heart, summoning the words in his mind, syllable for syllable. He became the hands and lips of his son’s power. The mystic power groaned, trying to tear away at him, but Bayzog’s sharp mind corralled it. The violet power swirled around the four of them, tearing at their clothing and bonds. Bayzog turned the unleashed energy into hands. Wildly, the mystic hands clawed at the air, threatening to tear them all apart.

  I’m losing control, Father.

  Bayzog ignored the words. Focusing on the hands he’d created, he grabbed the gag that filled his mouth and yanked it free. Taking a quick breath, he spoke a spell in Elven. His powerful enunciations brought Samaz’s fires under control. The mystic hands Bayzog commanded ripped free the gags and ate away the leathers that secured their hands.

  Bayzog jumped forward and wrapped Samaz in his arms in a strong embrace. “Close it off, Son! Close it off! You can do it!”

  Bayzog had brought forth his powers, but Samaz’s still spun around the dungeon, gathering speed and out of control. Face wroth with pain, the young man screamed.

  “Aaaaaaaaaaaaaah!”

  With the power tearing at his clothing like a mighty wind, Rerry cocked back his fist and smote his brother square in the jaw. The power faded. Samaz sagged in his father’s and mother’s arms.

  Rerry rubbed his knuckles. “I always wanted to do that.”

  Bayzog smirked. “You did well. Just don’t ever do that again.” He slapped at Samaz’s cheeks, but his older son didn’t awaken. “He’s out, but he should be fine. And you’re going to have to carry him.”

  Rerry looked at the dungeon door that sealed them in. “Carry him where? We’re still stuck inside.”

  Bayzog pointed his finger at the door and uttered a command in mystic Elven. The door burst off the hinges and into the adjacent wall with a clatter. “We were stuck, but now you’re stuck carrying your brother.”

  The cries above them rose to an all new crescendo.

  “Let’s go!”

  CHAPTER 3

  Still hanging by the neck, struggling for words, Nath stared down Lindor and the other judges and said in a raspy voice, “If you try to hang me and I don’t die, what happens then?” He wriggled. “Do I go free?”

  The elves and dwarves in the stands gawked and gasped. The murmuring rose.

  Lindor and the other judges huddled up. They spoke in low voices.

  Nath could hear every word that sputtered from their fumbling lips. They were completely baffled about what to do.

  “Hang him again,” one of the dwarven judges suggested.

  An elven judge offered to keep him in prison. Another suggested they just wait and see if Nath choked to death. They all turned and looked at him.

  Nath’s neck muscles continued to thicken and harden like roots from a tree. The stretch of rope groaned above him. He said to the judges, “Do you mind?” The roughness in his voice started to ease. “You could at least cut me down while you talk about it. This is a bit cruel, you know.”

  Lindor held up a long, shaky finger. “The prisoner will be silent.” He next snapped his fingers.

  An elf in rose-colored robes rushed up the steps with a leather tome almost as big as himself. The elf dropped it on the judges’ stone table and hustled away.

  Lindor began leafing through the pages. “This will take a while. Hmmm�
�let’s see. What happens when you hang somebody and they don’t die...?”

  “Free him!” Brenwar marched toward the judges. “That’s what happens!”

  “Oh, so now you stand up for me,” Nath said. “Thanks, Brenwar. Have you finally come to your senses?”

  “I’ve always had my wits.”

  “No you haven’t.”

  “Yes I have!” He scratched his head. “I think.”

  Laylana stormed toward the judges. “I call for a mistrial!”

  “Yes! A mistrial!” Brenwar agreed.

  The elven prosecutor, Anlee, came forward. “The penalty is death. It must be adhered to, whether it is by the rope, the guillotine, or a squadron of archers.”

  Chanting broke out among the dwarves. “Free Nath! Free Nath! Free Nath!”

  Ben was pumping his fist in the air and leading the chorus.

  On the other side of the fort in the stands, the elves chanted, “Death! Death! Death!”

  Nath managed to turn his chin far enough to see an elven woman who resembled Lotuus in the stands, leading chants. Wearing silky layers of black, pink, and white, she carried the Elderwood Staff. “Brenwar! That’s Lotuus. You need to end her!”

  Brenwar was caught up in the cheering for Nath. His bony fist pumped in the air. “Free Nath! Free Nath! Free Nath!”

  The elves and dwarves began to argue back and forth. They pushed and shoved one another, even dwarf against dwarf and elf against elf. The Corridor fort became a sea of confusion.

  Nath watched Lindor and the other judges comb the pages of the tome, also arguing with one another. Stubby dwarven fingers poked at the pages. The elves shrugged the argument off with their noses stuck in the air. Between blinks, Nath caught the changes in their eyes from time to time, from black to their natural colors. He was pretty sure they were going to find a way to kill him, one way or another.

  Finally, Lindor lifted the marble gavel. He slammed it hard several times on the table. Whack! Whack! Whack!

  The sound shivered Nath’s scales. The courtyard fell silent. The elves and dwarves returned to their seats and sat down, quiet. Even Brenwar and Ben sat still.