JOURNEY OF THE SACRED KING II

by JANRAE FRANK

  She felt Hoon's rage like a blow to the stomach and she staggered, falling to her knees. She leaped up, breaking into a run, going full out.

  < I will kill them both and you will watch them die. You will drink their blood with me. >

  "I will throw myself into the fires of Mt. Queleyus before I will ever be like you." Oh, Gods! Gods, help me. I want him. I want him so much.

  She guessed that she was now only three hundred yards from the top, about the length of a practice field. She would make it.

  * * * *

  Hoon sat on the crimson velvet couch in the tower room where he held his private rites. His face was deep in concentration as he exercised his innate ability as a vampire to speak into the minds of those whose blood he had tasted or had tasted his. It was an extension of his gift for fascination. All vampires had it, it was how they subdued their prey long enough to get their fangs into them.

  Mephistis knelt on the floor, tightening the ropes that held his newest prize: a captured ha'taren from the occupied zone. He had tired of listening to her attempts to call down her liege-god's wrath upon him and cut her tongue out. He judged her to be very near to Aejys' innermost nature, someone who would strengthen the connection. He shoved the blade first into her groin, giving it a ripping twist inside her. She screamed, struggling against her bonds as she writhed in agony. Blood pooled between her thighs. Mephistis put his hand in the blood, and then licked it off his fingers. Ha'taren blood had fire and potency; he wondered why he had not been taking it all along. He opened his pants, lifting himself out. He painted his member with the blood and licked his fingers again. Then he entered her bleeding womanhood. So good, so good, he sighed, moving rhythmically as he lowered his body onto hers. He stroked her right side with the baneblade, the heat of anticipation flooding him. He could feel the pain and terror in her like a tangible thing. It was delicious. Then he shoved the blade in between the lowest rib pair. It was so sharp that entering her body was like parting warm butter. Oh, yes. Oh, yes. He shoved it in again and again, once between each set of ribs and if she still lived when he finished he would start on the left side.

  * * * *

  Aejys screamed in anguish, falling to her knees and doubling over. Blood erupted from her groin and quickly soaked her pants. She could feel him moving inside her, feel the pressure of his body against hers. "No!" She glanced up at the sword. Less than fifty yards separated her from it. She staggered to her feet, stumbling forward.

  "No. I do not yield." She began to grit it out between her teeth in a strained chant of sheer will. "I do not surrender. I do not yield."

  She could feel his rage at the strength with which she fought him through the cord of dark magic connecting them She got only a few yards further when she felt the blade in her side again. Aejys fell, writhing and clutching at the wound. "No. I. Do. Not. Yield."

  She dragged herself up again to her knees.

  "Shit!" Talons broke from cover. She slipped an arm around the paladin, drew Aejys' arm over her neck and rose with her, supporting her.

  "Tal – Talons..." Aejys gasped.

  They made it another ten yards before a winged mon alit before them.

  "Stop," he said, standing with feet spread and firmly planted. He carried a sword at his shoulder and wore a gleaming silver breastplate over blue washed mail and beneath that a long knee length robe of gleaming midnight blue silk. "You cannot help her. She must make it on her own."

  Talon's face went blank and expressionless, her eyes cold, calculating quickly the best way to take him out if he got difficult. "Get out of my way," she said quietly, without inflection or emotion.

  "It is the rules." He spoke simply as if stating a bald truth, but a small frown slipped into his brows and eyes as if he saw the assassin's lethalness and was not certain what to do about it.

  "Fuck the rules," the curse was all the more chilling for it's emotionless delivery. "She's under attack."

  "What?" He looked confused. "That's not possible. This mountain is shielded."

  Then Aejys screamed as the baneblade found the paladin's lung and through the connection her own. Blood ran from the corners of her mouth. She sagged against Talons.

  The Jesmyrran flinched, his widening eyes betraying a mix of incredulity and horror as he watched the wound appear in the ha'taren's body.

  Inspiration struck Talons. "Your childhood name? What is it?"

  The Jesmyrran looked startled. "Jumpfree. I'm Jumpfree." As he said it, Jumpfree saw the tiny question mark scar on Talons' neck where Dynanna had marked her that day in Birdie's tower room. "Her mark! You have the mother's mark!"

  "Yes. Help us, Jumpfree."

  The name quickened both a smile and a fire in his expression. He sketched the Kalirioni rune. Instantly the long tendril of dark magic connecting Aejys to Mephistis became visible. He shook his head in disbelief. "This is not possible... In four millennia no one has ever broken through our shields..."

  "Can you cut this thing?" She indicated the tendril with her head.

  "No. I don't even understand it... I've..."

  "Heads up," Talons interrupted his hesitant speech. "This whole mountain is under siege." Talons nodded her head to his right.

  He looked and gasped at the sight of a legion of vargeis, given substance by Margren's magic, racing across the sky toward the mountain. "Get her to the sword quickly. Skelevrathamon can protect you both. I must summon the others." He rose into the air, setting a horn to his lips and blowing an alarm never heard before on the mountain.

  Talons grunted, that was fine with her, she was an assassin not a soldier and therefore not eager to find herself in the middle of a battlefield again. She picked up the pace. "Come on, Aejys. You can't die on me now, mon. We're too close."

  "Hurts ... to ... breathe," she gasped, bending her head forward away from her body, coughing up blood. Talons dragged her on, knowing that every second counted and they had had very few of them to begin with. Then Aejys cried out again. Talons cursed: the bastard had started on her left side; it would only be moments before he reached her heart and it was all over. Then they stood before the sword.

  * * * *

  Two myn lay dead, mortgiefan taken from both, and Mephistis started on his third, cursing Aejystrys Rowan for being so hard to kill. He could not understand what could be preventing most of the wounds from recreating themselves in her flesh. "Hell damn you, bitch. Fall down and die! Die! You'll not get the sword." He entered the mon, savoring the taste of her terror as he stroked the blade up and down her left side to the rhythm of his thrusts. He slipped it in, drinking her pain as she convulsed beneath him. It was so good. So very good. He rode her enthusiastically now, feeling death coming, ecstasy building in his loins, burning with intensity in every fiber of his body and nerves. He shoved the blade in more fiercely, giving it a hard twist and a rip to the side. "Third time is a charm. Now, Aejystrys, I give you a wound you cannot resist." He deftly put the blade in the woman's heart as his seed erupted into her dead body.

  * * * *

  Aejys wrapped her arms around the hilt and pulled. The sword hummed and came free about a foot. She pulled again, and then nearly let go as blood erupted between her next ribs.

  "Now! Now, now, now." Talons yelled.

  Aejys yanked and staggered back, bringing the sword free wrapped in her arms. In the next instant two things happened at once: The baneblade found her heart and the sword erupted in blue flame as the two magics collided. Aejys fell without a sound, rolling onto her side, still holding the sword. Blue flames danced over her body, the sword shrieking angrily.

  The keening cry of the sword grew intense, piercing Talons' head like a blade. She covered her ears tightly, balling up as she sank heavily to her knees. It echoed the hurt of her failure. All the strength drained out of her. She had failed with Aejys just as she had with Wilstryn. "I take lives, I don't save them."

  The sword's note changed, the keening lessened, softened into a song of comfort and warmth. T
alons' dropped her hands. She looked up. The blue light still played across Aejys' body. Talons wondered why it had not gone out.

  A gigantic feathered form emerged from the lake, shaking itself off. Talons gaped. The creature was easily three times the size of Little Bit, if not more. "I guess this is a good day to die," she muttered, summoning her claws. "And I would rather die, here, now, and with honor than find myself again in Bryndel's bed."

  "Have no fear! Skelevrathamon is here! I'll protect you."

  Talons stared at him, confused by both his words and his appearance. "What are you?"

  "I am a quetzelcoatlys."

  Talons shook her head.

  "I'm a feathered serpent."

  Talons still looked blank.

  "I'm a dragon with feathers, damn it!" He sounded irritated and more than a little frustrated with the ignorance of the Guildsmon. "I am a companion of the sword. I will protect you both," he said, nodding at Aejys' body.

  "There's only me to protect. She's dead."

  "Are you sure?" he asked quizzically. "I don't think so."

  Talons blinked and stared. Aejys' clothing had burned away, exposing her wounds and the hilt of the Blade of Nine Souls bonded into her flesh, bone, and heart. But – Talons shook her head, trying to clear her eyes – there was no heart wound. In fact, now there were no wounds on the left side at all. "What in Hadjys' Hells?" She had not expected this at all: The wounds did not heal; they just disappeared as if they had never been there at all. She had expected it to be like a lifemage's spells, to watch the flesh and bone knit and heal.

  "It is always like that," Skelevrathamon told her. "Spiritdancer does not heal, it re-creates. That is so fascinating. It is why I became a companion of the sword soon after Eldarion forged it."

  "Who are you again?" Talons asked.

  "Skelevrathamon. Skelly to my friends. If you are friend to the new wielder, then you are my friend too."

  "Well met, Skelly." Talons dismissed her claws. "I am called Talons Trollbane, granddaughter to the Old Man of the Mountains. Hadjys has taken an interest in this one."

  "He has nine hells, but he opposes the Hellgod," Skelly said with the tone of one was testing his knowledge or memory. "He is a god of just punishment, is he not?"

  "He is." Talons wondered for a moment if there might be some way to persuade this dragon to carry off Bryndel and eat him.

  "Who is the new wielder?"

  "Aejystrys Rowan, the Lion of Rowanslea."

  "Ah," the dragon purred. "So it comes full circle, does it? The Rowans are the ones who outcasted the last wielder, cursed him for his misdeeds, causing the dancer to desert him."

  "Get off the mountain!" A mon's voice shouted down at them. They looked up to see a Jesmyrran hovering above them in full armor.

  "What is wrong, Briarsharp?" Skelly asked.

  "We can't hold it. Look down!"

  They did and Talons gasped. Skeleton warriors swarmed up toward them. Their numbers were beyond count. Hoon had unleashed his army.

  "Treetop is evacuating the mountain. You don't want to be caught in the spell. Firefinder's going to blow it." Then Briarsharp flew off.

  "What's she talking about?"

  "This mountain is a dormant volcano. Most think it's extinct. But if there's any fire left, Firefinder can find it. Wrap the wielder up in something quick so I can carry her."

  Talons shed her cloak, wrapping it around Aejys and the sword. She whistled for Little Bit who came and she mounted, taking to the sky. Skelly followed with Aejys. They hovered for a moment.

  "Which way?"

  "Follow me! Hi Ho Skelly, away!"

  Talons followed the dragon west. Behind them came a sudden whoosh of strong wind. Talons glanced back: every living thing on the mountain, from the largest bear to the smallest insect, were airborne on an enchantary-wind blowing north.

  "Treetop's evacuation." Skelly said. "Come on! Let's get out of here." The dragon set a strong pace with Little Bit struggling to keep up.

  Now Talons could see the mountain start to shake and churn. A crack opened in the side and the water began to first trickle and then to rush. With a shattering whistle the remaining water flashed into steam exploding from the cone. Talons watched the altar tremble and then keel over, falling into the depths. An explosion blasted debris into the air and Talons flinched, bending low over Little Bit's neck. Black clouds of ash and sour smelling gas mushroomed behind them.

  "He found it!" Skelly roared, spun around and grabbed the struggling gryphon by the harness and rushed away, racing the hail of debris and the cloud of gas and ash. It stank of rotten eggs. They were swiftly flying faster than Little Bit had ever traveled. As soon as they broke into clear air, Skelly released Little Bit. The gryphon dived and then steadied, rising quickly and followed in the quetzelcoatlys' wake.

  They flew for hours.

  "There!" Skelly's wedge-shaped head nodded down. Talons saw a long line of warriors, several banners flapping in the wind, one of them was a triad of rowan trees encircled by an ouroborus: Aejys' old banner.

  They descended rapidly. Talons jumped off, running towards them. "Take cover! Take cover! Volcano!"

  A Jesmyrran flew down, landing near the mages who were throwing up shields. He turned to Talons and Tagalong. "Firefinder's trying to control it, keep the flow heading into the pass. If he can't, that's why I'm here." He extended his hand to Tagalong. The bewildered dwarf took it and shook. "I'm Jumpfree," he said, freely giving his childhood name rather than his formal one.

  "I'm Tagalong Smith. There are nearly three thousand of us and more coming. I don't see how you can get us out."

  "Only a few thousand? No sweat!"

  "We're here to fight the Waejontori."

  "Good! Carliff's going to need all the help he can get," Jumpfree said.

  "Where's Aejys?"

  "Over there with Skelly."

  Tagalong frowned, saw the cloak wrapped bundle. "Is she?"

  "Just fine," Talons assured her. "The Spiritdancer is repairing and making improvements on her."

  "She pulled the blade?" Laurelyanne asked.

  "Yes. We need some blankets. I want to keep her warm while the sword does its work."

  Tagalong knelt beside Aejys. Her skin had turned a glossy black with sapphire hues. Her hair was now palest cornsilk with a fringe of red and black surrounding her face. Her ears were delicately pointed, but otherwise her features were unchanged. All the scars and blemishes were gone. Her hands were folded across the sword-hilt; her expression peaceful; yet disturbingly suggestive of the way they laid out dead ha'taren. The strange feathered creature curled protectively around her looked vaguely like a dragon to Tagalong.

  "What are you?"

  Skelly rolled his eyes and answered irritably. "I'm a feathered dragon. Actually I'm far more than that, but I'm not ready to go into that just now. Just call me Skelly and we'll get along fine."

  "Okay." Tagalong sounded doubtful.

  Dynarien pushed his way past the other mages, kneeling beside Aejys. He glanced up at Skelly.

  "Do you know what I am?" Skelly asked still more irritably since the fellow smelled of magery and divinity.

  "You're a quetzelcoatlys."

  Skelly's irritation dissolved completely. "How'd you know?"

  Dynarien leaned close and whispered in Skelly's ear, "I'm Dynarien Willodarusson."

  "The Rose Warrior?" Skelly managed a creditable whisper back.

  "Yes."

  "Glad to meet you," Skelly said, putting on his most polite manners. He extended a claw to Dynarien who gasped one of the long, dagger-like talons and they shook.

  "Do you have any idea how long this will take?"

  "It varies. But this one seems particularly complex. It has been going on for four hours now. If you'll ask the others to move out of earshot, I'll tell you what I think."

  Dynarien nodded. He took the frowning Tagalong by the shoulders and turned her firmly about. "Go on."

  "He's a fuc
kin' dragon," Tagalong complained.

  "We'll be fine, Tag. Skelly's a quetzelcoatlys. They're the only dragons that, as a group, rejected the Waejontori. He's a good dragon."

  Talons and Little Bit moved away, joining the mages behind the shields.

  "But Dynarien!"

  "Go. Now."

  Tagalong walked off muttering, "Puddin' head paladins an' their idjit mages... Stupider yuwenghaus..."

  When Skelly was satisfied their privacy was guaranteed, he told Dynarien, "I smelled divinity and Nym blood as well as the usual Sharani/sylvan mixes. You're lucky she hasn't sprouted wings." He glanced at Aejys quickly to be certain he was not misspeaking himself. "Nym grow up by becoming Jesmyrran."

  "Seriously?" Dynarien smiled, wondering if he should caution the dragon about betraying his grandsire's secrets.

  "Absolutely. It's a big secret. So don't tell any – oh my! Look. The Dancer must have decided on the wings after all."

  Aejys turned on her side without waking. Talons' cloak slipped down as the wings developed, bright azure feathers tipped in scarlet.

  "Amazing. Truly amazing. This is Dancer's greatest transformation. So much to work with." Skelly sniffed at Aejys. "She smells like an Abelard."

  Realization hit Dynarien. "Shared Life."

  "Ahhhhh! Ishla and I discussed that spell soon after he cast it the first time. Did you know it could alter the genetic structure? Gene bonding, she called it."

  The ground shook hard, knocking Dynarien from his feet. He grabbed at Skelly's head.

  "Hold onto me!" Skelly cried. His huge claw closed around Dynarien's waist and he pulled the mage close, nestling him against his side, wedging Dynarien into the curve of his body with Aejys.

  The sky darkened as the volcano roared. Lightning sprang into the sky. One side of the volcano disappeared. Molten rock poured forth from cracks, splintering the side of the mountain, which slid slowly and then faster down into the flow.

  "This is bad," Skelly said. "Firefinder can't hold it."

  A shout went up from the company. "The fireborn! The fireborn are coming!"

  Dozens of them came in wide sweeps, diving into the volcanic flow and rising again glowing with the fire and power they absorbed. One wing broke off from the others and entered the cone itself. Gradually the volcano quieted.