Erik And The Dragon ( Book 4)

by Sam Ferguson

  The vampire disappeared in a puff of smoke only to reappear next to where Aparen landed. He seized Aparen’s shoulder with inhuman strength and bent down to strike with his fangs. Aparen quickly reacted, shoving his talons into the vampire’s chest and then sending a bolt of lightning out from his palm, connecting immediately with its target. The vampire was thrown back to crash through a pile of bones.

  Aparen then opened his mouth and sent flame after the vampire. Again the vampire disappeared in a cloud of smoke. This time Aparen leapt into the air so that he was above the vampire when the creature reappeared. He rained down a pair of fireballs at the vampire. One of them struck the monster on the shoulder and the other missed. The vampire howled in agony and jumped back to his landing.

  The vampire hissed, baring his fangs at Aparen once more, then he turned and pulled a wickedly curved scimitar from a mount on the wall that seemed to appear when the vampire reached for it. The vampire slowly drew the blade out from its scabbard and dropped the scabbard onto the stone floor.

  Aparen let loose a massive ball of lightning. The vampire stood calm waiting for the spell to come in range, and then he sliced through it with his sword. The lightning dissipated harmlessly and the vampire grinned.

  “You shall die as all the rest,” he hissed.

  Aparen reached around his back and pulled his magic dagger out. He watched the vampire descend from the perch once more. Aparen floated down to the ground and waited for the right moment. The vampire came within a few yards and then halted. He flashed an eerie smile and then charged forward. Aparen sent a bolt of lightning straight out. Just as he expected, the vampire disappeared in a cloud of smoke. Aparen then took a big step toward where the vampire had been and whipped around with his dagger, launching it directly behind where he had been standing. Just as the vampire reappeared, the dagger pierced through his chest. Aparen seized upon the vampire’s shock by lunging forward. He threw two more lightning spells, blasting the vampire in the stomach and face. Then he reached out with his left hand and stabbed his talons through the vampire’s sword hand. A massive kick to the vampire’s abdomen dropped the vampire to his knees and then Aparen placed his right palm on the vampire’s forehead.

  The vampire looked up with wide, dead eyes. Aparen wasted no time sending all of his magic through his right arm and crushing the vampire down to the floor with a massive psionic blast. The vampire moaned weakly and struggled to rise up again. Aparen then bent down and placed his knee squarely on the vampire’s back. He then pulled the scimitar free from the vampire’s grip and rammed the blade through the vampire’s upper back to pierce its heart. The vampire cried out in agony and went limp.

  “You can’t kill me,” the vampire hissed. “I am immortal.”

  “No, you are undead,” Aparen corrected.

  Aparen pulled on the vampire’s braid, lifting him up enough to grab the handle of his dagger that still protruded from the vampire’s chest. As he wrapped his taloned hands around the handle, he felt his dagger pull the vampire’s magic out of him. The energy and power then transferred from the dagger, into Aparen and he felt his own power strengthen. He also felt his wisdom and mind become enlightened with the vampire’s experience, like it had when he had consumed the bear’s energy. A smile crossed his lips and he closed his eyes as he drank it all in. The feeling was indescribable, like drinking from a crystal clear spring after wandering in the desert for days. Then, in the blink of an eye, it was over and the vampire turned into ash, leaving only the dagger, the scimitar, and the vampires clothes.

  “Now you are just dead,” Aparen said smugly. He looked down into the pile of ash and found a hard, black mass. He picked it up and inspected the petrified heart. He shifted back into his human form and then he put the heart into the container that Dremathor had given him. In an instant, he was whisked away.

  He found himself standing in the middle of a small room with marble floors, bronze pillars, and a pair of chairs facing each other. There were no doors, and no windows, yet the room was as bright as if it were a solarium during the bright afternoon sun.

  “Have a seat,” a voice said.

  Aparen turned, but saw no one. He assumed Dremathor was either in the room, or nearby. “We had a deal,” Aparen said.

  Dremathor appeared in one of the chairs and smile devilishly at Aparen. “And I see you have completed your task, and quicker than I expected I might add.”

  “Where is Silvi?” Aparen asked.

  Dremathor nodded and snapped his fingers. Silvi appeared in the room, shackled at the legs with iron bands. Her eyes were wide with surprise, but she seemed unhurt. “She is fine,” Dremathor said.

  Aparen tossed the container to Dremathor. “Here is what you asked for.”

  Dremathor opened the container and removed the petrified heart. “Did you consume his energy?”

  Aparen nodded. “I did.”

  “It felt good, didn’t it?” Dremathor inquired as he turned the heart over in his hand. “You gained some insight from his experience, some additional power from his strength, and yet none of the vampire’s undesirable traits were passed on. It’s incredible, isn’t it?”

  “Can we go?” Aparen asked.

  Dremathor nodded and motioned to the chair. “First I would speak with you. Have a seat.”

  Aparen moved to the seat, setting the vampire’s scimitar across his lap. He noticed Dremathor’s thirsty eyes upon the blade like a child might look upon a chocolate cake left unguarded on the kitchen table.

  “That blade is mine,” Dremathor said.

  “The vampire had it, I killed him. Now it is mine,” Aparen said sternly.

  Dremathor cackled. “No, you don’t understand. The vampire stole it from me. I want it back.”

  Aparen looked at the blade. “Why would he steal it from you?”

  “Well,” Dremathor said with a shrug. “He didn’t steal it from me so much as he stole it from the man I gave it to. I sent another to slay the vampire. I gave him the sword. When the vampire killed my champion, he kept the blade.” Dremathor held his hand up in the air and the blade flew out to meet its master before Aparen could blink. Dremathor slid his fingers along the blade and admired the way it shone it the light. Then he set it adrift next to him and it disappeared from the room. “For returning it, you have my eternal gratitude.”

  Aparen frowned, not sure what to think of the whole mess. He glanced to Silvi. As he did so, her shackles fell from her ankles and she was set free. Then, as the sword, she disappeared from the room. Aparen jumped up from his seat. “What have you done with her?” he shouted.

  Dremathor motioned for Aparen to sit. As he moved his finger, an unseen force shoved Aparen back into the chair and held him there. “I am a man of my word,” Dremathor said. “Don’t worry about that. She is free and waiting for you. Once we are done chatting, I will send you to her and you may do as you please. I have the amulet, and you have brought me the vampire’s heart. You even returned a precious item of mine that I had counted as lost. I want to offer you something in return.”

  “What?” Aparen asked.

  “You seek power, I can see it in your eyes, and I can smell it on your breath,” Dremathor said. “I can grant you the power you seek, and I can help you establish a new coven so you can build upon your power.”

  “Why would you do that?” Aparen asked.

  Dremathor shrugged and pulled the amulet out from under his robes. “Have you heard of the Black Fang Council?” he asked. Before Aparen could answer, Dremathor shook his head and waved the notion away. “Of course you haven’t,” he said. “Let’s just say that it is a powerful group of shadowfiends. I used to be one of them.”

  “Used to be?” Aparen asked.

  Dremathor nodded. “I now have everything I want. I don’t need the council any longer. Besides, I am afraid that the group will not last much longer now that…” he paused and put the amulet back in his robe. “I suppose it matters little to you.”

  �
�What?” Aparen asked. He was utterly confused and unsure what Dremathor was alluding to.

  “Maybe I will tell you one day, but I am not sure you are ready just yet. For now, tell me whether you would be willing to accept my help. If you are, I can send you to a place where you may learn how to increase your power, and you will be able to build a new coven, would that interest you?”

  “What is in it for you?” Aparen asked skeptically.

  Dremathor grinned. “You have already given me so much,” he said as he patted the amulet. “What do you say, will you accept my help?”

  Aparen thought it over silently.

  “I know the hunger you have for power,” Dremathor said as his grin widened. The man leaned forward. “I know the ecstasy of feeding upon another’s energy. Don’t sit there and pretend you don’t want more.”

  Aparen nodded. “Where will you send me?”

  Dremathor slapped a hand to his knee. “I have friends far in the west that will teach you all you need to know. They are an interesting lot, but if you can get past the smell, they will grow on you.”

  “The smell?” Aparen echoed questioningly.

  “They’re satyrs,” Dremathor replied.

  Aparen started to open his mouth but a blinding light made him flinch and hold his hands up over his face. Air rushed around him, chilling his skin and causing goose pimples to appear. Then, as quickly as it appeared, the light was gone and he was sitting in the chair in a lush, green forest. He blinked a couple of times and saw that Dremathor was sitting a few feet in front of him.

  “This is it,” Dremathor said. “My friend will be here soon to greet you. Treat him with respect, you may be powerful, but the satyrs are a savvy bunch, and wield powerful magic. If you anger them, I will not come back to rescue you.”

  Aparen glanced around. “What about Silvi?”

  Dremathor chuckled and clapped his hands. “She is on her way,” he promised. Then he shook his head and stood up. The chair disappeared behind him. He started to walk away and then held up his hand as if he had forgotten something and turned back to face Aparen. “Oh, and, in a while I may come back and ask you for a favor. From one gentleman to another, I trust you will honor my request.” Before Aparen could say anything, Dremathor disappeared as he walked away. A sphere of golden light appeared to Aparen’s right, and then Silvi stood next to him, smiling widely as she placed her hand down on his shoulder.

  “You came back for me,” she said.

  Aparen nodded. Then he heard a strange instrument from some distance down the path in the forest. It was somewhat like a flute, but not quite as sharp. It was softer, and smoother. Around the bend in the path came a most unusual animal. It skipped along on two hooves that resembled the hind legs of a goat. The fur was brown and came up to the creature’s waist, where it changed to resemble that of a man’s torso. A thick patch of hair stretched across the belly and up over the chest, fanning out to touch cover the shoulders. A thick, red beard hung below the creature’s chin and its lips were pursed together as it blew into a set of wooden pipes the likes of which Aparen had not seen before. Long, pointy ears stuck out from the side of the satyr’s head and it stared at him with beady, brown eyes beneath a mat of reddish-brown hair that curled around a pair of stubby horns.

  All at once it stopped skipping along the path and put its instrument down. “So, you are the one that Dremathor wants us to teach eh?”

  Aparen looked up to Silvi and she shrugged back at him.

  “Well, come on, we can’t very well stay out here in the forest. The prowlers will be along come nightfall. We should be back in Viverandon before then. Come on, up, let’s go.” It turned on its hooves and began skipping back down the path, playing its wooden pipes as it went.

  Silvi nudged Aparen. “What should we do?” she asked.

  Aparen rose out of the chair. No sooner had he done so than the thing vanished from behind him. He looked down to where the chair had been and then up to the creature disappearing back behind the trees. “We follow him,” he said decisively.

  *****

  Gilifan walked to the edge of the pit and looked down. His face soured and he turned away from the sight at the bottom. “When did this happen?” he asked.

  “I called for you just as soon as I found out. The acolytes summoned the other elders, who had been out gathering firedrakes for an assault on Ten Forts.”

  “Where were you?” Gilifan asked.

  “I was also out in the valley,” Takala replied. “I was gathering some of the mercenaries we had hired.”

  Gilifan nodded. He turned away from the pit and looked at the other elders of the order that stood nearby.

  “What do we do now?” one of them asked.

  Gilifan stood silently. He knew of the egg, but none of the others did. He turned to Takala and looked at the man for a moment. “Where do your loyalties lie, Takala?” he asked.

  “You have the power to raise men from the dead,” Takala said quickly. “Couldn’t you raise the master back?”

  Gilifan sighed. Even if he still had the amulet, raising a dragon was beyond his power. He would need the book for that. The only problem was, he needed a dragon to use the book.

  “I knew this was a waste of time,” one of the elders spat. “I have been sitting here waiting for the master’s return for all of my life, only to have him come back just in time to die at the hands of one man! This is ridiculous.”

  Gilifan reached up with his hand and a magical vice wrapped around the elder’s throat. “It was your job to secure the lair.”

  “No,” the man sputtered as he wiggled against the unseen choke-hold. “We were out on the master’s errand. We weren’t here!”

  Gilifan released his spell and the man fell back a couple of steps. “We go after the book,” he said definitively. “Our order still serves the same purpose.”

  “How will we use the book without Tu’luh?” the same elder asked.

  “You let me worry about that,” Gilifan replied. He then turned back to Takala. “We will need strong warriors to accomplish our goal now. The orcs at Ten Forts will need our help.”

  “Orcs won’t fight with us,” one of the other elders said. “Their witch hunters will come after us. That is why we hide here in Verishtahng. It is too dangerous even for the orcs to come at us here.”

  Gilifan placed a hand on Takala’s shoulder. “I asked you before, but now I need a direct answer. Where do your loyalties lie?”

  Takala met Gilifan’s eyes evenly and set his jaw. “Command me, Master Gilifan, and I will obey. I, and all other members of the Black Fang Council, will serve you as we did our master. I have lived long enough to know that there is still a chance for victory as long as we are strong.”

  Gilifan nodded. “I was hoping you would say that.” The necromancer then turned and walked to the five elders. “Come here,” he instructed them. “Join hands with me, and I will show you the visions that Tu’luh showed me.”

  The elders looked to each other nervously and then formed a circle, holding hands and then closed their eyes. Gilifan looked at each of them and then mentally called forth a spell to paralyze them. He sent it out in a wave through his hands. It coursed through each of the elders faster than the blink of an eye. Then he pulled himself free of the circle and turned back to Takala.

  “To win this war, we will need to rebuild our order. I need men who are strong, and unwavering in their determination.” Gilifan held out his hand, indicating the five elders behind him, still frozen in place. “If you wish, you may consume their power, take it as a token of my appreciation for your loyalty, and a promise to reward you for future endeavors.”

  Takala grinned evilly. “I think this new arrangement will work well.”

  Gilifan started toward the exit. “I will cull the rest of the weak from my order, and then you and I will begin rebuilding. It will take some time, but we will come back stronger than before. Tu’luh may have died, but his legacy lives on.”

&n
bsp; “Glory to the strong,” Takala said.

  Gilifan stopped in his tracks and turned back. “Tomorrow, I will have a special errand for you, Takala. Do you know Salarion?”

  “I know of her,” Takala replied.

  Gilifan nodded. “I will send you out to find her. I wish to speak with her.” Takala nodded quietly, and Gilifan turned and left the chamber so Takala could enjoy his reward. There was much work to be done, but all was not lost for the Wyrms of Khaltoun.

  Table of Contents

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN