Faith Of The Dragon Tamer (Book 2)

by Cole Pain

The Druids screamed behind him.

  He ran down the stairs, still dragging the murky-eyed Druid. Now all they could do was run, and they still didn’t know where the Druids held Ren.

  When he reached the main hallway he saw Galvin just ahead with Zorc slung over his shoulder like a sack of grain.

  The Druids pursued them down the steps. Nigel’s heart quickened. A deafening blast came from behind. Nigel dared a glance back. Fire spilled down the stairs. Whatever the Druids kept in the chamber behind the curtain didn’t take kindly to heat.

  The Drek’s son scraped the sides of the walls, trying to slow Nigel’s flight. Nigel finally turned and bashed the Druid’s face. The man lost his balance and fell. Nigel hauled the Druid behind him, not caring how many bones the man broke along the way.

  The hollow Zorc had blasted was just ahead. Nigel picked up the pace. Galvin did the same. When they broke into the sunlight they careened their way through the birch trees, making a straight path to the ship.

  The ship was gone.

  Galvin skidded to a stop, frantically searching the shoreline. Nigel turned to the Druid. There were scrapes all over him, a wicked gash on his forehead, but the fire in his eyes was still alive. Nigel put his sword against the Druid’s chest. He leaned forward.

  “Where’s a ship?”

  The man grinned. Blood oozed to the surface of his chest. “Already sailed to Agger Point, the Chosen on it.” He cackled like a madman.

  Nigel stiffened as a wave of Druids erupted from the Obelisk. They were going to die. It would be impossible for two men to fight so many Druids. With grim determination, Nigel tightened the grip on his sword, vowing to cut as many down as he could.

  Galvin turned to Nigel and nodded. “It’s been a pleasure.”

  “Truly said.”

  They clasped arms before they turned to face their deaths.

  - - -

  From out of nowhere Neki sprinted by them, straight for the wave of Druids, screaming like a lunatic and waving his saber in the air as if he were going to annihilate every last Druid on Dresden.

  Nigel stood in stunned confusion. The Druids stumbled to a halt and began running in the opposite direction.

  After the initial shock, Nigel laughed.

  “Maker’s fates. He has a boat!”

  Nigel blinked. Galvin was right. If Neki was on the island, he had a boat.

  “Run!” Neki screamed.

  Nigel turned to see Neki swiveling in midair as the Druids regained their senses and resumed their charge. But it was enough. Neki had given them time.

  Nigel laughed as he ran to the shore. For as long as he lived he would never forget the sight. He had never seen anything like it.

  “Remind me to kiss him, will you?” Nigel shouted at Galvin.

  Galvin only grinned.

  After leaping into the funny looking boat, Galvin laid the wizard down and grabbed an oar, preparing to shove off as soon as Neki boarded. The kota pranced a greeting. Nigel did a double take when he saw her. Why would Neki bring the kota?

  “Go, go, go!” Neki said, running toward them at full speed, saber slicing the air. Nigel took another oar and helped Galvin shove off. The kota continued to prance. Her drumming hooves reminded Nigel of a war chant.

  Although the Druids weren’t gaining on Neki, they could still reach the boat before it was safely away.

  “Faster!”

  Neki dove into the water and disappeared. Heartbeats later he was beside the boat, gasping for air. Nigel grabbed his tunic and hauled him in.

  When Neki fell to the deck he wasted no time. Rolling to his feet he positioned himself behind the sail. A sudden breeze picked up and the boat lurched forward. Nigel lost his balance and fell over Zorc’s sprawled body.

  Nigel looked back. The Druids on the shore weren’t coming after them, but they all had their hands clasped in a stance Nigel recognized.

  “Neki! Get down!”

  Neki didn’t seem to hear. He was concentrating on the wind.

  The Druids’ eyes focused on Neki. Nigel didn’t know how far the Druid power ranged but he intended to find out. The only thing that could save Neki was distance.

  Galvin was already grunting with effort as he rowed the boat forward.

  It wasn’t fast enough. Neki released a scream.

  “Hold on, Neki!” Nigel caught Neki as his body careened down the side of the boat. Nigel didn’t hesitate. Nigel exploded out of his inner sanctuary and spun his desperation through the air. The boat lunged forward.

  Neki was pale, but he twisted with effort. They hadn’t closed him yet.

  “More!” Galvin shouted.

  Nigel didn’t know how to conjure the continuous breeze Neki had, only the bursts came natural, but he released them one right after the other. The Druids’ tentacles searched his mind, trying to reach his door, but with each burst the tentacles became more tenuous.

  Galvin continued to row, but his face was contorted with worry. “Get him down!”

  Neki moaned again. His eyes rolled back in his head. They almost had him.

  Nigel covered Neki’s body with his own, feeling the tentacles retreat, the wood of the boat somehow blocking the Druid power even more. After a few more bursts, Neki’s eyes fluttered open. Nigel rolled away as he felt the last of the Druid tentacles fade to nothing.

  Neki began the breeze again, but his face held a lingering horror of the tentacles.

  “No.”

  Galvin’s cry forced Nigel back to the task at hand. Peering over the boat, he froze.

  “May the Maker’s fates be with us.”

  Although they were well away from the island they weren’t far enough away to miss the five Druids standing apart from the others: five Druids with five xectics.

  A high-pitched whine screeched through the air. The kota growled in irritation.

  “Burning cinders, faster,” Neki whispered, more to himself than to anyone else.

  The ship moved like the ten winds, but it wasn’t fast enough. They were sitting targets on the Old Sea.

  “Nigel,” Galvin said, “how long will it take the Druidonian to find us?”

  As if in reply, the water rolled with ebullient foam. The boat lurched forward, teetering dangerously to the side. Galvin dove for Zorc, catching the wizard’s robe before he was flung off the side of the vessel. The kota screamed a warning. Nigel turned in time to see a silver mass begin to emerge from the turbulent waves. Silver scales glittered in the sun as mammoth shoulders crashed through the surface … then a head … then a neck. Someone gasped.

  The Druidonian’s neck extended skyward for almost three stories, and its head was over twice was big as their boat. Water cascaded down its silvery scales and seaweed clung to its length like leeches. Its eyes were solid silver holes, blending with the scales but glowing with an unnatural fury, even for a predator. Nigel took a step back.

  The air stilled. Neither Nigel nor Neki could conjure a breeze if they tried. The waves crashed into the side of the boat, jerking them fro and back, but they couldn’t take their eyes off the horror before them.

  The Druidonian bellowed a warning. Teeth as long as thighbones gleamed in the morning’s sun. Its head moved closer, mouth curling in a snarl.

  “Holy Maker,” Neki whispered as he crawled over and began shaking Zorc. Nigel remembered what the wizard had said. No magic could kill the creature, and no weapon could defeat it. He put a hand on Neki’s arm, shaking his head as if to say the wizard would be of no use. Nigel didn’t even know if the wizard still lived.

  “Wind!” Galvin shouted as the Druidonian’s head moved closer.

  Both Neki and Nigel forced the sail to rise. The boat spun forward, but the creature was right behind them, tips of its wings coming out of the water like oars.

  Nigel could feel the heat of its breath moving over the ship. He smelled the foul odor of the creature’s latest kill. Neki stumbled backwards, but it wasn’t fast enough. All Nigel could do was watch as the Druidonian ope
ned his massive jaws to take in Neki’s body.

  A ray of light shot past them, hitting the creature directly in the mouth. The Druidonian froze, its teeth barely grazing Neki’s flesh.

  Their boat pulled ahead a safe distance. The creature didn’t follow. Its eyes stared blankly ahead. Nigel could hear his own breath coming in short gasps. He looked back, expecting to see Zorc’s coal-black eyes, open and fierce, but all he saw was the kota, down on her front knees, horn pointed in the direction of the Druidonian.

  Neki collapsed where he stood. “And to think,” he said, “I tried to force her off the boat.”

  Chapter 20

  A ray of light sliced through the darkness and widened like an opening curtain. He tried to rise, but he was too tired. A heat came from his chest. His eyes flickered to it, unable to remember what it was, yet knowing it kept him alive. He tried to reach it but his hands wouldn’t obey his command.

  He looked at the light again and felt a soothing warmth filter through the darkness, warming his limbs. A shadow of a man stood in the light.

  He tried to speak but only managed a whisper. He was dying, fading to nothing. The light could help him if only he could reach it.

  Warm, strong hands looped under his shoulders, lifting him, carrying him to the light. Tingly sensations raced from his hands into his spine and then back again. The hands holding him had the power. He used to have that feeling. He wanted it back. It hurt to be separated from something so beautiful.

  Light suddenly engulfed him. It was blinding in its intensity. A shadow bent over him.

  He searched the face of someone he knew he should remember. His brow furrowed. The heat at his chest intensified. He tried to touch it, but his hands remained limp by his sides. The man’s hazel eyes looked at him with concern and then flickered to the heat. Two other men loomed above him, one dressed in black, the other in white.

  The man in the black leaned forward, took his hands and placed them over the heat.

  His memories came back in a maddening rush: Zier, Aidan, the Collective, the quest, the Oracle, the Druids, and the closing.

  Ren rose to his feet and stared into smiling hazel eyes. “Markum?”

  Markum grinned. “I found the right door, Ren.”

  They stood on a walkway that wound in the darkness, dragon’s tails long. The light he had seen came from a lone torch dangling in the air beside an open door.

  Markum’s eyes danced with the surety of a seer. Ren felt the Quy flickering inside him and turned to face the two men who had brought him to the light.

  One looked at him with eyes he knew well, yet the face was older, thinner, and had been etched with anguish of unbearable proportions.

  “Chris?”

  As a slow grin spread across Chris’ face Ren caught a glimpse of the boy he once knew, but it immediately faded. Ren drew a worried breath before he turned to the man with the golden eyes. Age-old pain still shone in those eyes, memories of what the man had once been. Ren immediately recognized the Avenger.

  Ren felt the Quy bouncing from Chris and Aaron back to him. His own power was still locked behind his door. He was using Chris and Aaron’s power to survive.

  Ren drew a quick breath. It was the union.

  He glanced through the open doorway into the darkness, his darkness. He was the Chosen. Without the power he was undefined, but he was also the synergy, or the union of the three stars surrounding his star. Grauss had said three others would help him, give him power on which to draw. Chris and Aaron must be two of those stars – two of the defenders of the Quy. He could draw from them and use their power. But he could also destroy them.

  He turned back to the two men. “I’m draining you.”

  They both nodded.

  “We’re in the dream world, Ren. Your dream is in there,” Markum said, waving his hand in the direction of the open door. “But what you see here,” Markum turned in the darkness, bringing more torches to life, lighting up thousands upon thousands of doors with odd inscriptions and symbols, “is the land of dreams. I could choose any door to enter. Each door represents a person’s dream.”

  “And if you had chosen the wrong door?”

  “I would have been swept up in another’s dream, unable to reach yours in time. You would have been lost.”

  Ren looked toward the open door of his dream. Somewhere inside his dream another door rose in the darkness, one with the symbol of magic etched on its surface.

  Chris swayed. Ren reached out to steady his friend. When they touched he saw everything that had happened to Chris and Manda. A blinding rage churned to the surface. “Alezza will pay for this.”

  His friend smiled, but his smile was fleeting. “I’m sure Manda has made her pay dearly already.”

  Aaron stepped forward and handed him three stones. “The Quy told me to give you these.” As their fingers brushed, the Avenger’s memories and emotions seared inside Ren with reckless speed.

  Ren looked down at the three stones in his hand. One was clear as glass, the second white as snow, and the third had a hazy gray bearing with one large blemish of devouring ebony. Ren glanced at the Avenger, asking the silent question.

  “I gave all I am to make the love and pain stone. My righteous hate, along with Chris’, formed the hate stone. But the hate stone isn’t complete. The third member of the union needs to be found.”

  Ren nodded in understanding. It would take one more to make the union complete, to make the defenders of the Quy complete.

  “My pain and love lasted centuries,” Aaron said. “Chris’ hate only lasted a brief time, and although it was intense, it wasn’t enough to complete the hate stone. You must find one other who can finish the task.”

  Ren saw Aaron weakening and reached out to steady him. “What must I do?”

  “Regain your power and release ours. Then find the other who will make the hate stone complete. Only when all the stones are complete will we be able to leave this place and help you defeat the darkness.”

  Ren nodded. The magic that had formed the hate stone had drawn Chris and Aaron into the dream world physically. Unlike Markum, their souls were here. They would be released only when the hate stone was complete.

  Ren turned toward the open door. A torch suddenly appeared in his hand. He nodded his thanks to Markum before stepping inside his dream.

  The door slammed shut behind him. The torch flickered but didn’t die. The defenders’ power still pounded through his temples but he felt their strength waning. He had to hurry.

  Ren strode toward the door with the symbol of magic etched on its surface. It floated before him, taunting him. Ren fingered the triangle, feeling his power throb beneath the door’s grain. He ached for it. The door had no handle, only a lock. He pushed on the door with all his might but it did no good.

  Ren unsheathed his sword and struck the frame. Not even a divot appeared in the wood. Ren slammed into the door with all his strength. It didn’t budge. He walked around it, trying to see any other way to break it down.

  He circled the entire door. Where did it open? He remembered his door in the land of dreams. It didn’t open where he was. It opened somewhere else. The thought didn’t calm him.

  He sat down, feeling himself weaken, feeling Chris and Aaron weaken.

  He studied the door again. How could you open a locked door? Not only that, but how could he open a door locked by minds, not by metal?

  The symbol for magic mocked him: an inverted triangle inside a larger triangle inside a circle.

  What did the symbol mean?

  Ren looked closer and frowned. The larger triangle was raised slightly. If the smaller triangle was inside the larger, it should be raised even higher, but it wasn’t. It was on the same flat plane as the circle.

  Ren traced the symbol’s lines with sudden understanding. The center triangle wasn’t a triangle at all: it was part of the circle. And what appeared to be a large triangle wasn’t one triangle at all, but three triangles, endpoints touching.
>
  Three triangles were floating in a circle, like the union of the three to him.

  He looked down at the three stones in his hand and felt their power. He glanced at his sword. The fierce eyes of the dragons glistened in the torchlight. One set was a deep sable, one set stark white.

  “Choice, Chance, and Fate,” Ren whispered, reciting the words from the Oracle, “merged with pain, love and hate, can embrace the light, can embrace the dark. Heed us well, our Chosen.”

  Ren quickly took the ebony stone, the hate stone, and placed it inside the open mouth of the sable-eyed dragon. He then placed the white stone, the love stone, inside the open mouth of the white-eyed dragon. They clicked into place and began to glow with power. The clear pain stone he placed inside the open area of the blade, within the hollow teardrop. It lit the darkness with crystalline glory.

  He clutched the hilt, focusing on the stones. Beams of light went from each stone to the others, forming a perfect triangle, the same triangle he had seen in the Oracle. It was the triangle of the synergy.

  The light emitting from the hate stone wasn’t as strong as the others, but it had to be enough to unlock the door. The only reason those who had been closed couldn’t open their door was because they had no power to do so. He did.

  Ren released the power of Chris and Aaron and called on the power of the blade. It surged inside him, singing with shrill intensity. The triangle of the sword, led by pain, pointed down through the blade. When he used the sword the power of the synergy would be sent through the sword to the target.

  As he stepped forward he felt the wonder of love, the torture of love’s pain, and the seduction of righteous hate. The sword glowed with a dazzling silver light. He inserted the tip in the lock and heard a “click.” The door swung open.

  He stepped inside.

  - - -

  Ren opened his eyes and winced. His head throbbed as if the Mynher himself had laid claim to it. When he touched his scalp his hand came away with blood. He must have dashed his head against the pedestal when he fell at the closing.

  Druids were everywhere, scurrying across the deck of the ship like mice after a piece of cheese. Ren observed his surroundings through slit eyes. He rested on a small bunk that jutted from the ship’s hull. His face was turned to the deck.