“Oh dear, I hope he’ll be all right,” said Tin Tallon.
“Thank you, Mr. Tallon,” said Sooz. “You may close up now.”
“As you wish. Good-bye then, little ones!” said the door as it rolled back over the entrance with a grinding shudder.
“See ya,” said Chris, wrestling with Dirk’s unconscious body.
“Umm, before you go …,” grated Tin Tallon.
“Yes?” said Sooz, hefting Dirk’s good arm over her shoulder.
“You won’t mention anything to Hasdruban, will you? You know, about the password. Terribly embarrassing, you know!”
“Huh! No, don’t you worry, we won’t be saying anything to him, not if we can help it!” said Chris.
“Yeah, we’re not planning on talking to him anytime soon!” added Sooz.
“I’m so pleased, thank you so much,” graveled the door politely.
They dragged Dirk down the hall, his feet trailing along between them, following the signs that read “To the Surface.”
Eventually they came to a simple wooden door at the end of the hallway. It opened easily into the back end of a cave up in the hills upon which the White Tower was built. A little path led down from the cave to some open farmlands, beyond which lay the town of Magus Falls. Chris and Sooz dragged Dirk to the cave entrance and onto a nearby grassy hilltop, where they collapsed, exhausted, with Dirk lying between them.
It was evening and the sun was setting in the west. “He’s going to die, isn’t he?” said Chris, looking over at Sooz.
She nodded, her eyes welling up with silvery tears.
Dirk coughed and his eyes flickered open. He grabbed Chris by the arm. “Give me the Essence. It’s my only hope,” he croaked.
“What do you mean?” said Chris.
“If I drink it, it might restore me to my original form. And by doing so, restore my arm too. If it doesn’t—well, I’ll die anyway, but it’s my only chance,” said Dirk hoarsely. He coughed and lay back, closing his eyes.
Chris stared at him, unsure. “What’s the Essence, Chris?” said Sooz. “What’s he talking about?”
Chris felt in his pocket. He pulled out the little bottle of black, oily liquid. “Essence of Evil,” he said. “Dirk’s Evil.”
“You mean that stuff that the White Beast took? In the parking lot back on earth?” said Sooz.
“Yeah,” said Chris. “Looks like Hasdruban extracted it and bottled it. Trouble is, if we give it to Dirk it might turn him back into … Well, you know, a real Dark Lord and everything. Totally evil.”
Sooz thought of the suit of armor in the Sanctum Sanctorum in the Iron Tower. She shuddered.
“But if we don’t give it to him, he’ll die,” she said.
Chris and Sooz looked at each other, unsure of what to do.
“We’ve got no choice, have we?” said Sooz.
“I guess not,” said Chris, bottle in hand.
“Well, go on,” said Sooz.
Chris did nothing. If he did nothing, Dirk would die. And right now, that didn’t seem such a bad thing. Sooz would take over, and he’d be with her, by her side. He frowned and shook his head.
“What’s the matter, Chris?” said Sooz.
“It’s the stuff in the bottle. It’s affecting me, making me think … Making me think bad thoughts,” he said. “It’s dangerous.”
“Give it here, then,” said Sooz.
Impulsively, Chris jerked the bottle away and tossed it to the ground in front of Sooz, obviously glad to be rid of it.
Sooz didn’t hesitate. She picked it up, pulled the stopper out, and poured the contents into Dirk’s mouth. It seemed to trickle down his throat of its own accord, like a glittering black oily snake slithering home to its lair.
They stood back and waited …
Part Five: Metamorphosis
A Dark Puberty
Dirk lay there unmoving. Sooz and Chris were staring at him expectantly, but nothing seemed to be happening. And then suddenly Dirk’s eyes flew open and he cried out, “Noooo! Not that!”
Dirk’s limbs began to twitch uncontrollably. Then something really weird started to happen. He began to shake and hum, like some kind of living rattle. He was shivering so fast they could barely see him.
Sooz and Chris recoiled in horror. “Dirk! Oh no, it’s killing him. Oh Dirk, no!” cried Sooz.
“Aaaaiiieeee!” shrieked Dirk in agony. Suddenly a pair of huge hands burst out of him. Bony, leathery hands, ending in long, black talons. They reached to either side of Dirk’s boyish body, and began to haul themselves out. Heavily muscled arms followed, covered in dark leathery skin, with bony ridges.
Sooz and Chris stared in openmouthed terror. Dirk’s body was being torn to shreds, and from the gory wreckage a gigantic new form was emerging.
A head and shoulders came forth, a head with two huge horns and fierce yellow cat-eyes, and a great, fanged and tusked mouth. Its face was gnarled, leathery, and bony. It rose up out of the tatters of Dirk the child to stand like a colossus as Dirk the Dark Lord. The body was mightily muscled and its legs were shaped like those of a goat, ending in heavy hooves. It was at least twelve feet tall.
Chris and Sooz cowered down before it. “What have we done … ?” said Sooz under her breath.
The creature raised its arms, put its head back, and howled at the heavens in a voice deep and dark and resonant with power.
“Free! I am free at last! I have returned, I, the Dark Lord, the World Burner, Master of the Legions of Dread! All shall fear me! All shall bow down before me, the Evil One, the Nameless One, the Lord of …”
Then the huge creature paused and frowned.
“Wait a minute,” it said, in its deep, vibrant voice. “I’m not the Nameless One anymore, am I?”
The creature raised its head to the heavens once more. “All shall fear me, the Dark Lord Dirk! Dirk, the World Burner, Dirk the Master of the Nine Netherworlds, Dirk the Magnificent!”
Dirk, for that is who the creature was, lowered his great horned head and chuckled, a rolling, rich laugh.
“Cool!” he said. He turned, and gazed down at the two human children. He put a taloned finger to his chin, and tapped. “Hmm, now what have we here? Two little man-things by the look of it!” he said.
Chris said in a voice full of fear, “Is that really you, Dirk?”
“Indeed it is, Christopher. Or should I say Brother Christopher!” said Dirk. He put his huge head back and laughed. Then he turned to Sooz, who was looking up at him, eyes wide with fear. The ring on her finger was pulsing with energy. The Dark Lord frowned, a huge, meaty, bony frown.
“Give me the Ring, Sooz,” he said commandingly.
Sooz just stared up at him, speechless. Dirk leaned down and shouted into her face, “GIVE ME THE RING, GIRL-CHILD! NOW!!!”
Sooz quailed back in terror. Quickly she removed the Ring with quaking fingers and handed it over. Dirk smiled. The Ring swelled in size in his hand, and it slid onto his finger. Instantly, the runes began to glow with terrible energy.
Dirk put his head back and laughed, “Mwah, ha, ha!” but this time the sound was loud and mighty and full of evil intent. He admired the Ring on his finger for a moment. Then he leaned down and tapped Sooz under the chin with a black-taloned finger.
“Thank you, my little Vampire!” he said, smiling fondly at her. Well, as much as a giant, twelve-foot-tall Dark Lord could smile fondly.
Sooz blinked, regaining some of her composure. She smiled back. “That’s okay, Dirk,” she said nervously. “I guess you’ve been cured of the Black Rot, then?”
The Dark Lord looked at his left arm, which was strong and whole. He smiled. And then frowned for a moment as if he didn’t want to be reminded that it was they who had saved him. But then he made a face, just like Dirk used to, as if admitting something to himself.
“Yes, it worked. You will find that I am not ungrateful! I won’t forget it, you have earned your reward,” said the Dark Lord forcefully. Actually, h
e pretty much said everything forcefully.
“Reward? But we did it because … Well, we’re your friends,” said Chris, still not quite able to believe what had just happened.
“Friends!” said Dirk, laughing insanely once again. “I do not have friends, you muddleheaded boy-child!”
Then the Dark Lord stopped laughing. He put a great hand to his bony chin once more, just like the boy Dirk used to do.
“Well … on the other hand. Maybe a Dark Lord can have friends. I’m not sure,” he said thoughtfully. “This is new territory for me.”
“Do you remember being Dirk?” said Sooz. “All that stuff on earth, with the school and the pavilion, and the nanny, and rescuing me and everything?”
“Oh yes,” said the Dark Lord. “Indeed I do, I can remember it all. Bah, I was weak! I should have killed that Witch! I should have enslaved your parents, Christopher, and destroyed that petty villain, Grousammer! And as for Wings and Randle—oh, what punishments I could devise!”
The Dark Lord shook his head, and continued. “I mean, what was I thinking? Infected with human mercy, I suppose. Ha, absurd!”
Sooz and Chris exchanged glances. They were scared, but on the other hand, Dirk was obviously still in there somewhere. Sort of. But not the Dirk they once knew.
“So, what’s next, Dirk?” said Sooz, worried about what he might be planning.
“Do not call me Dirk,” said Dirk. “You may address me as your Imperial Darkness, or Dark Lord.”
“But we’ve always called you Dirk,” said Chris.
“That will change. Though I suppose, since it’s you two, the Great Dirk will be acceptable,” said the Dark Lord imperiously.
“And what if we don’t?” said Sooz, a little angry at his arrogant tone.
“I will destroy you utterly, of course,” said the Dark One.
Sooz and Chris stared at him in astonishment. “You wouldn’t!” said Chris.
“Of course I would, you fool! Do I look like I’m joking, you puny human … No wait, you puny nitwit! Ha, ha, yes, you puny nitwit, Christopher. Do not make the mistake of thinking I wouldn’t!” said the Lord of Darkness.
Sooz frowned. “But we saved you. We’re your friends. We took you in when you needed us, when you were alone on earth. We helped you!”
The Dark Lord Dirk grimaced, his huge face wrinkled up in annoyance. “Bah, I suppose so!” He folded his arms and stared at them. Then he said, “Perhaps it would be best if we return to the Iron Tower. Once I’ve broken the siege, re-enslaved—ah, I mean rescued—my people, I’ll find a way to send you back to earth. With a reward or something. It is probably best that way—each to their own.”
Chris nodded. “Makes sense,” he said. Sooz nodded too, but less enthusiastically. She had friends here, good friends, and though she missed earth terribly she didn’t feel comfortable about leaving her new friends in the hands of this version of Dirk.
The Dark Lord Dirk continued. “You don’t really belong here, you see. It is too dangerous. I can’t guarantee your safety, even from myself. It’s just the way things are,” the Dark Lord said in his deep, powerful voice. “Things have changed.”
Dirk and Chris looked at each other. That was certainly true. This Dirk was pretty scary, to put it mildly.
“So,” said Sooz, “how do we get to the Tower?”
The Dark Lord’s face lit up with unholy glee, just like Dirk’s face used to.
“Aha, well, I shall show you! You’re going to like this, my little morsels, oh yes, you will!” The Dark Lord raised his hands to the sky, and began to chant something in deep, sepulchral tones.
Chris looked at Sooz. “Morsels? That doesn’t sound good,” he said under his breath.
“No it doesn’t,” said Sooz. “I think we’ll have to humor him, you know, flatter him. That sort of worked with the old Dirk, didn’t it?”
“Yeah, I guess,” said Chris, not entirely convinced it would work with the Dark Lord Dirk—but what else could they do?
The Dark Lord’s voice was getting deeper. It began to vibrate with ominous power. They could feel it in their chests, like the sound of really loud heavy-metal music. Suddenly a column of dark energy burst from the Great Ring, and hurtled upward into the cloudy heavens where it exploded like a firework, scattering little motes of sparkly shadow all over the sky.
“To me, Abrakulax, to me!” howled the Dark Lord at the top of his mighty voice. The motes of glowing darkness began to fade and fall, until nothing was left. Silence reigned. Nothing happened.
“That went well,” said Chris.
The Dark Lord whirled and leaned down toward Chris, a bony finger raised threateningly. “Ah! Now that is sarcasm, I’m sure of it! Be careful, little man, or I’ll—”
“What?” said Chris angrily, his jaw jutting. “Kill me? Sacrifice me, maybe? Again! Without me, you wouldn’t even be here, you’d be a prisoner of the Skirrits or dead from Black Rot, you … you big bully!”
The Dark Lord blinked at Chris for a moment—a blink like that of a lizard or a bird—a sideways blink.
“You have courage, I’ll give you that, Christopher,” said the Dark Lord. “And you have been useful. I will let you live. But be warned, there are limits to my patience! As for the success of my summoning, wait and see, faithless mortal!”
As if to underline his words, a small speck appeared far away in the sky. It grew larger and larger as it drew near.
The Dark Lord Dirk turned to face the black spot, taloned hands on his hips. Christopher made a rude face behind his back. Sooz stifled a giggle.
“Here comes Abrakulax, the Dragon King!” said the Dark Lord.
Swooping down through the clouds came a great Dragon, its scales shining and black, its eyes huge, and of a bright, luminescent amber color. Trails of red fire wisped from its nostrils. All along its back, from neck to tail, ran spiky barbs of horn.
Abrakulax, the Dragon King.
Sooz and Christopher stared at it in openmouthed astonishment.
“Wow,” said Sooz. “A dragon, a real dragon! How cool is that!”
“Assuming it doesn’t eat us, that is,” said Chris, less enthusiastically.
“Look how beautiful it is!” said Sooz.
The Dark Lord turned, and smiled at her. “Isn’t he magnificent?” he said. He leaned down and tapped her under the chin again with a taloned finger. As he turned to welcome the Dragon, Sooz glared at his back. She really wished he wouldn’t do that with his finger, it felt so … patronizing.
The Dragon perched on a nearby heap of shattered rock, looking regal and magnificent.
“Welcome, Abrakulax, King of the Dragons,” said the Dark Lord Dirk imperiously. “Bear me and my companions to the Iron Tower with all haste, and all your ancient obligations to me will be discharged!”
Abrakulax looked over at the two children as if to say, “These two humans are your companions? Really?”
The Dark Lord gestured with a taloned hand. “Strange times, strange company,” he said.
The Dragon seemed to shrug. Then it came down and lay before them, offering its great neck for them to climb up on. The Dark Lord leaped easily onto the Dragon’s back. Abrakulax looked at Chris and Sooz, its huge amber eyes gazing at them curiously.
“We’re going to ride this thing?” said an astonished Christopher. The Dragon shifted a little, snorting flames.
“Indeed we are, Christopher, and do not call him a thing! He can understand every word you say. Remember, he is the King of the Dragons and should be treated with all due respect. You do not wish to anger him, believe me!”
“I’ve always wanted to ride on a dragon!” said Sooz, stepping forward and stroking the great beast on the nose. “Thank you, Abrakulax!” she said. The Dragon looked at her placidly out of one eye. It began to make a strange noise, as if it were purring.
Sooz climbed up behind the Dark One. “Come on, Chris, it’ll be fun!” she said.
“Fun? Riiight … What’s to keep us f
rom falling off?” he said.
“You must hold on to the spines as tightly as you can,” said the Dark Lord Dirk. “Now come on, Christopher, we haven’t got all day. We must get to the Tower before sunrise!”
Christopher shook his head. “This is crazy,” he said under his breath, as he clambered up the glistening black scales of the enormous dragon.
When they were ready, the Dark Lord shouted, “Up, Lord of the Dragons, up and away!” Abrakulax began to run, building up speed, before he leaped into the air, great wings beating like giant black sails, buffeting the air with unimaginable force. The mighty beast powered upward, climbing high into the sky.
Down below, Christopher and Sooz could see the land falling away beneath them. The little town of Magus Falls looked like a model village, and just beyond it, the White Tower gleamed like a shaft of light. The Dark Lord shook his fist at it and bellowed exultantly. “I have returned! And now I shall exact my vengeance! Prepare to suffer, Hasdruban, you crackpot meddler! Mwah, ha, ha!!!”
Then they streaked away through the clouds. Howling winds battered them, threatening to pluck them from their fragile perches and send them hurtling to their doom. They shivered in the freezing wind and clung to the spiny ridges of horn along the dragon’s back. Down below they could see a great lake, and then farmlands and villages, which gave way to rolling valleys, with scattered woods and forests. And then, after some time freezing in the high winds of the upper skies, they came to a bare, blasted wasteland, the Plains of Desolation. Beyond that, in the distance, they could see a dark tower pointing up at them like a finger of gnarled black iron.
“Down, your Dragon Majesty, down!” screamed the Dark Lord exultantly. “To the Iron Tower of Despair!”
Return of the Dark Lord
As they descended, they could make out more detail below—a small army had surrounded the Tower. Colorful banners and flags fluttered amid the neatly arranged rows of tents and improvised buildings where the soldiers were camped.
“Hasdruban’s army of paladins and spearmen,” said Sooz in the Dark Lord’s ear as the wind whistled past them.
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