It didn’t take a genius to notice his wariness, and Maria read his features like a book. “I have enough control over my magic to make sure I don’t steamroll your little Gnome hand.”
“I’m hardly worried—” Gelbus began, but he lost his balance, realizing—albeit too late—that he should’ve taken Maria’s hand.
He landed on the stone floor hard. It was not a long fall…at least not for a normal person, but he was a Gnome, barely of much height, and the eight-foot drop felt like twenty to him. Judging by the rattling of his bones, it might as well have been a hundred.
“Ooh,” Maria said, bending low to help him up. “Are you okay?”
Gelbus shot up with a smile plastered on his face. “I’m better than okay.”
Maria looked on confusedly.
“I’m great!” he enthused.
“Quiet!” she admonished him. “Keep your voice down. Those other prisoners can’t mask our sound for much longer, and it’s only a matter of time before the Dragon Tongue come back.”
Gelbus stood up and dusted himself off. He was a bit dazed, and perhaps Maria could see that because she asked, “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Oh, yes.” Gelbus looked around, taking in the old, rusty piping and the sweaty brick wall. Not to mention the drainage opening adjacent to the hole Maria had opened in the cell’s floor, which was now the hole in their ceiling. “Why I guess we are in the sewer system, aren’t we?” For the first time, he noticed the smell: harsh, assaulting his nostrils. “Judging by the stench, I would say that’s a big ‘yes’.”
“I wish I could’ve gotten in a different way,” Maria shrugged.
She leaned around the corner, no doubt planning their next route. Gelbus noticed she looked ahead—closer to the cells instead of away.
“Now since I’ve busted you out, and since you’re not going to spill your secrets, can you at least help me get my family back?”
Gelbus hesitated. I escaped death once. Can I really play my luck? He thought not, and this conflict showed on his face; the girl had saved him, and he had been raised right.
Reluctantly, he nodded his head, which bore no hat, and no flower. “Come. I’ve heard the dog barking from this way.”
Maria’s smiled beamed. “Thank you!”
Gelbus led the way around the corner, weaving through a webbing of drainage pipes, passing under the squares of light thrown into the darkness by the grates in the floors of the cells above. They were as quiet as they could be.
About five minutes into their journey through the foul smell, the rats’ nests, and the dripping gray water, Maria stopped. She tilted her head to the right as they came upon a fork in the passages.
“This way,” she said.
“How do you know?”
In all honesty, Gelbus was confused, and a Gnome like himself was not used to that feeling unless he was in his cups.
“Eh, it’s a long story, and one you might not completely believe,” she answered.
“Another time, then,” Gelbus replied.
“Yes, because there will be another time. We’ll get out of this alive,” the girl said fiercely, and then she turned the corner and led the way.
Chapter Six
Lake Fever was not a large lake, by any means; certainly not big enough to warrant appearing on anyone’s maps. Time itself had shrunk the lake so it was closer to the size of a large pond, but this was the body of water the Rogue Dragon Odarth the Bright had fallen into all those centuries ago.
What Lake Fever lacked in width and length, it made up in depth. For many leagues beneath the surface, the bones of Odarth had slowly begun to regenerate.
Muscles formed. Flesh grew. Scales, as hard as any armor, locked. Her eyes came, all seeing and fiery.
Yes, the Rogue Dragon’s time to rise had come, to claim the skies as her own; to wreak havoc across all of Oriceran until someone mighty enough dared to stop her.
Odarth had formed enough to reach out with her mind, and she knew just the person to speak to.
Odarth’s voice had come to Hunter in his study, where he had been leafing through an old book. In that book laid the answers.
No need for a Gnome. No need for brute force. The solution was simple: ‘What has died in water must be born again in flame.’
Hunter stood on a platform near the shores of Lake Fever—a platform that had been raised specifically for this occasion. He smiled at the crowd of Dragon Tongue before him. They waited with grim expressions on their faces, having been pulled from scouting, guard duty, training, and other posts to hear Hunter’s words.
“My brethren, in my hands, I hold the answer to our troubles. We have gone down many avenues for these answers, only to come to a dead end time and time again. But tonight, we smash through the barrier with all the ferocity of a Rogue Dragon!”
Cheers rose from the crowd. They could sense something big in the air, something life-changing.
“I need all hands on deck. Watchmen!”
A row of Dragon Tongue in the middle of the pack beat their chests to the call.
“I’ll need everything you have in protecting that wall. Nothing gets in or out; you will die before our plans are ruined.”
Their enthusiasm didn’t wane at that. The resurrection of one of Oriceran’s most feared and powerful beasts was bigger than all of them. Some hadn’t truly believed the day would ever come, but here they stood, proven wrong.
Yes, they could taste it in the air. Destruction was coming.
Death was close behind it.
And the Dragon Tongue would wield a power stronger than that of any wizard, witch, Light Elf, Wood Elf, anything—if the legends were true.
The watchmen cheered and beat their chests again.
“Guards!”
The first row of Dragon Tongue stepped forward. They didn’t beat their chests like the watchmen had. Instead, they drew their dark blades and thrust them toward the sky.
“Gather up all the fuel within the town. Oil, gasoline, alcohol—if it ignites, I want it!” Hunter yelled.
The guards let out a unified cry of assent and lowered their weapons.
“Dark Mages!”
The last line of Dragon Tongue stepped forward. They bore no weapons except for the rings on their fingers, which were made from a shattered dark artifact and allowed them to manipulate all forms of magic; to bend it to their will and use it for evil. All they had to do was infuse each spell with malice and hate—two things the Dragon Tongue carried in their DNA.
“I will need you here, near the lake,” Hunter told them. “If we are going to bring Odarth back to us, we’ll need all the dark magic we can muster. Bringing such an entity to this world will not be an easy task.”
The mages heard the warning in his tone, but it did not hinder their spirit. They bowed their heads, and brought their ringed fists together in front of their chests.
Hunter snapped the book closed. The Dragon Tongue watched him with admiration in their eyes.
“The time has come!” He raised his own sword up into the air, and the dark magic running through him caused it to alight with black flame.
The entire crowd erupted in cheers.
Then they went to work.
Maria could hear the cheers all the way below the cells and wondered what they could be about. Whatever it was certainly wasn’t going to be in her favor.
Shortly after the cheers tapered off, she heard something else; something as familiar as the creaking of the stairs in her Akron home.
Maria, is that you?
“Sherlock,” she whispered.
Gelbus turned to her. “What?”
“I’m talking to my dog. Like I said, it’s a long story. Just bear with me.”
The Gnome shrugged.
Maria supposed after he saw her melt a steel grate with her hands, he must’ve figured anything could happen.
“How did you know it was me?” Maria asked Sherlock.
Faintly, he answered. Could smell
you. Even under the layer of filth you’re currently wearing. May I say you smell absolutely exquisite? You should roll around in the sewers more often. Maybe we’d get along better, he said seriously.
“You’re gross.”
I’m a dog, what do you expect?
“Who’s there with you? Is Gramps okay? What about Frieda?”
Ignatius is doing a bit better, but he’s still not a hundred percent. He needs to get out of here, we need to get him home. Wait—Maria, what is that smell? Is that what I think it is?
“Your breath blowing back at you?”
This raised a chuckle from the Gnome. He couldn’t hear their conversation, but Maria figured it would be pretty easy to understand an insult like that no matter what planet one hails from.
No, that’s a Gnome, isn’t it? You brought a Gnome for me as a gift! Aww, Maria, you shouldn’t have.
“I didn’t.” Maria searched the stone foundation for a weak spot. She wasn’t having much luck. “The Gnome is off-limits.”
“Thank you,” Gelbus answered.
Maria arched an eyebrow at him.
“I know enough about canines to figure he probably wants to use me as a chew toy,” Gelbus said. “Thank you for deterring him. I appreciate that.”
"Don't mention it." Then Maria listened as she continued searching for a drainage grate or a crawl space—something, anything to get her closer to where her family was being held. She thought she found one, but the space was too small for Maria or the Gnome to squeeze through. She would have to do something else.
“Bark louder so I know where you are,” Maria instructed Sherlock.
The Bloodhound had been barking quite a lot since being thrown in a cage, so that wasn’t asking for much.
“What’s the guard situation up there?”
I smell one or two. I’ve only seen one since the others were called out of the prison keep—the ugly motherfucker who’s patrolling the corridors and keeps telling me to shut up.
“Seems like you get that no matter what planet you’re on.”
You’re hilarious.
Maria smirked, causing Gelbus to give her another crooked look.
“All right, tell everyone in the cell to stand back,” she said.
I can’t…I’m a dog, Sherlock replied with no humor in his voice.
“You know what I mean. Get them as far away from my voice as you can.”
I’ll do my best, but I’m not making any promises. If people die, it’s on you.
“Such the chivalrous and brave Bloodhound you are. You’ll make a cat very happy one day.”
I don’t like cats! For the last time, that magazine was sent to me by accident!
“Sure, sure, whatever floats your boat, pal. At least it’s not gerbils or something.”
I eat gerbils for breakfast, Sherlock said, his voice dropping lower.
“You eat Purina for breakfast…usually. Unless you’re being especially rowdy and going after my bacon and eggs.”
Maria pushed all the thoughts from her mind, only focusing on the magic present in Oriceran’s core. A rush of the energy hit her, and the flesh on the back of her neck and all up her arms broke out in goosebumps. Slowly, like a revving engine, her body began to tremble. The darkness ebbed away, replaced with the familiar sapphire blue that came with her magic.
Gelbus took a few quick steps back, out of the way, as Maria leaned forward and placed her glowing hands on the brick. Her fingers burned so brightly that she could no longer make out the shape of her hand, could no longer tell what was what.
Oh, please don’t let me fuck this up, she pleaded silently, as wind blew her hair in every direction.
The wall beneath her trembling palms crumbled, and her muscles tensed.
Oh, shit! Sherlock exclaimed from somewhere far away.
‘Oh, shit’ was right.
This act of magic was not as quiet as the earlier one had been. To Maria’s ears, it sounded like a small earthquake. The aftermath of the action—crumbled brick that now revealed a large gaping hole above her and offered her a view into her family’s cell—looked like an earthquake had occurred, too.
When the dust settled, Maria looked up. There stood Gramps, Sherlock, and Frieda, their eyes all equally bugged out, their smiles all equally big.
“Oh, Maria, I knew you’d come,” Gramps said.
I didn’t. I thought you were dead. No way you could’ve taken down those five Dragon Tongue by yourself.
“Thanks, Sherlock. Glad you believe in me,” Maria rolled her eyes.
Frieda’s smile vanished as she whirled around. “We must go. They’re coming.” From behind her, over the clamor of the other prisoners, Maria heard doors banging open and guards yelling.
Frieda hopped down, Gramps after her, and Maria helped them both. Then Sherlock jumped down into her arms. He swiped his tongue across her face, leaving a trail of slobber in its wake.
Missed you. Glad you’re all right.
Maria smiled.
Suddenly the cell door opened, and three Dragon Tongue came into the ruined room. Maria saw them through the jagged hole in the floor. It didn’t take much time for them to realize the situation. The lead Dragon Tongue, who Maria recognized as Macran, the one who’d come close to burning Gelbus to ashes in his cell, grimaced and thrust his arms down toward Maria. A great wave of flame manifested, igniting the air.
The Dragon Tongue were of the mindset to shoot first and ask questions later—if they asked questions at all. Maria had to act fast.
She threw Sherlock out of the way and drew on her power. She didn’t have enough time to make it really count, but it was enough to combat the Dragon Tongue’s magic.
Her own blue fire met his malicious red, and the streams collided, making a noise that reminded Maria of fireworks. The brilliant explosion ate away all shadow from the room, and more of the floor evaporated. Both Maria and the Dragon Tongue were launched backward. The Dragon Tongue knocked into the other two guards still in the cell.
Gramps and Frieda grabbed Maria’s arm, helping her up.
Dazed, she was momentarily unsure of where she was.
“We have to go,” Gramps urged. “Maria, can you lead us out of here?”
She didn’t answer—just rubbed the back of her head where she had taken the most damage.
“I can lead!” Gelbus offered. “Or, I can do my best.”
I can’t believe I’m saying this, Sherlock grumbled. Get on my back, Gnome. It’ll be quicker this way.
Maria, now more shocked than anything, translated. “Sherlock wants you to ride him. Lead the way, Gelbus.”
Surprisingly, the Gnome didn’t waste any time. He took a couple quick steps over to the Bloodhound and hopped on, gripping Sherlock’s collar. “That way!” he shouted.
Yeah, yeah, ask nicely, Gnome, Sherlock muttered, but he obeyed.
Maria had one arm around Frieda, and the other around Gramps. It took Maria longer than she wanted to come back to her senses, and her head thrummed terribly as they followed after Gelbus.
They came upon the spot beneath Gelbus’s cell not long after.
“Okay, back up to the surface. They’re not expecting that,” Gelbus decided.
“You can’t be serious,” Frieda said. “They’ll kill us. More guards are on the way.”
“Then we’ll have to fight.” Maria pulled herself away from Frieda and Gramps. Her legs shook and her head buzzed, but she was, for the most part, all right.
“You are in no condition to fight, my dear,” Gramps replied. “Using intense magic like that in such a short span of time is dangerous.”
Maria put a hand up. “I’m okay. I have all of you backing me up. Plus, we’re not all going to fit into the tunnels. It’s only a matter of time before the Dragon Tongue come down here after us, and all they’ll have to do is breathe their little fire spells into the opening, and we’re history.”
Gramps nodded. “She’s right,” he said to Frieda. “I, for one, do no
t plan on dying in a sewer.”
I wouldn’t mind, Sherlock admitted. The smells are lovely!
“You’re sick,” Maria said quietly.
Like I’ve said many times before, I’m a dog. Cut me some slack.
Maria could only shake her head. Sherlock was right; he was a dog. Besides, she didn’t have time to harp on whether Sherlock was gross or not. It was time for her to lead. She’d gained enough energy back to do that, and now she had backup again.
Strength in numbers; true on Earth, true on Oriceran.
“Let’s go,” Maria said. “Gelbus first. Here, help me lift him.”
Frieda wore a grim expression on her face, but she helped Maria hoist Gelbus up through the jagged rectangle.
“I really never planned on coming back here,” Gelbus grunted as he pulled himself up. “I escaped, and now I’m at square one again. How foolish of me.”
“So foolish it may work yet,” Gramps chimed in. “Let’s not chatter. Let us go.”
What if the cell door is locked? What if I can’t muster up enough magic to blow it off its hinges? Time is short and we can’t afford anything else slowing us down…
As if Gramps could read her mind, he put a hand on her shoulder, and smiled at her in that way that only her loving and quirky grandfather ever could.
“Don’t worry, Maria. You will be fine. This is your destiny.”
My destiny, yeah, but what about yours?
She almost said that.
The words were on her lips, but saying them aloud meant making them real, giving them weight. She imagined it was a lot like saying a spell inside your head instead of speaking it from your lips, though she was sure there were probably magic users out there who could think spells with as much power as if they were saying them.
Instead, she said nothing at all; just returned Gramps’s smile and hoped he didn’t see through it.
“Sherlock next,” she prompted.
You’re gonna leave me up there, alone with the Gnome? I don’t think that’s a smart idea.
“Oh, please, Sherlock. You guys are practically best friends now. He rode you like a horse.”
Midwest Magic Chronicles Box Set Page 48
