Lusam: The Dragon Mage Wars Book Four

by Dean Cadman

  “How… how did you do that?” Cole asked in total astonishment. He knew, like every other Empire citizen, that once the Necromatic ring was placed on your finger and you swore allegiance to Lord Zelroth, any attempt to remove it would kill you. Zedd grinned widely, and held out his hand towards Cole’s ring. Cole’s heart hammered in his chest at the thought of removing his own ring, but he couldn’t pass up the opportunity to be finally free of the Empire once and for all. Whatever he did, or wherever he decided to go after here, he would no longer be seen as an Empire citizen. Without the ring on his hand to identify him, he would be free to live wherever he liked, without the risk of ever being discovered by Lord Zelroth or one of his agents.

  Swallowing hard, Cole lifted his ring hand towards Zedd and closed his eyes. Zedd placed a hand over the top of his ring, and spoke the same incantation as before.

  “You can remove it now,” Zedd said, taking his hand away. Cole looked down at the ring on his finger. It didn’t feel any different to him. But there again it hadn’t felt any different when it had first gone on his hand years before. Taking a deep breath, he reached for the ring and slid it from his finger.

  Nothing happened.

  After a moment, he dropped the ring as if it had just burned him, and Zedd laughed loudly.

  “It’s harmless now, you fool. I disabled the enchantment on it, and sealed off its connection to your magic reserves. But I wouldn’t leave it there if I were you, just in case Lord Zelroth discovers it. Eventually he’ll discover our failure at The Rift, and when he does, he will send someone to kill us. Whoever he sends will be searching for us through our rings. So if he discovers that we’ve removed them, they’ll start searching for us by other methods,” Zedd said.

  “Good point,” Cole replied, reluctantly picking up his ring from the ground. “So, what now?”

  Zedd grinned widely at Cole. “Now we travel south to The Badlands, and I will finally reunite with my family. Then we will begin to forge our own Empire. Together, no one will be able to stop us. With my new power, and you as my Inquisitor, we’ll do what no one has ever done before. We will unite The Badlands under one banner. Our banner. And crush anyone who stands in our way.”

  Cole’s jaw hung slack at Zedd’s words. He knew his best chance of survival was still with Zedd, at least in the short term. And given the choice, he would prefer being in a warmer climate, rather than the cold harsh lands of Afaraon—especially with winter rapidly approaching. He also knew that Lord Zelroth’s search for them would probably begin in and around Helveel, as that was their most likely destination after failing to reopen The Great Rift. And as such, putting some distance between themselves and Afaraon certainly made a lot of sense.

  Then something else suddenly occurred to Cole: his mental link to Zedd. He wasn’t sure if the Guardian book would have destroyed it, or if Zedd himself would be able to detect it now. Carefully, he reached out and located his link to Zedd’s mind. He was relieved to find that it was still there, but he was no longer certain that he would still be able to use it. He needed to test it somehow, or he knew that he would never feel safe around Zedd.

  As they stepped away from the book room, the light suddenly extinguished inside, plunging them both into complete darkness. Zedd spoke a single word, and a light source flickered into existence above his head. Cole glanced back towards the book room, and instantly knew how he could test his tenuous link with Zedd’s mind. He needed to make Zedd do something, but without him realising that he had been manipulated into doing it. And he had just the thing in mind. He reached out through his tenuous link, and carefully placed the thought into Zedd’s mind. Zedd stopped mid-stride and turned back towards the Guardian book room. He spoke a few words of power, and the rubble pile began to recover the entrance.

  “Almost forgot,” he said, then turned and set off walking without another word. Cole allowed himself a wry smile.

  He still had control of Zedd’s mind.

  ***

  Lord Zelroth had descended into fits of rage shortly after Lusam escaped Azmarin. He killed every one of his Darkseed Elite guards that had been in the throne room that day, claiming that their incompetence had allowed his escape to happen. Dozens of his servants lost their lives, and the few remaining prisoners in Azmarin’s dungeons also paid a heavy price.

  After killing almost every prisoner in Azmarin, Lord Zelroth had been forced to acquire more. He wasn’t content to wait for his forces to bring them back from The Badlands, as would normally be the case. Instead, he had his guards randomly round up two dozen citizens from Bruecia on false charges, and then started using them to feed his Aznavor. He had been desperate for news about The Great Rift for weeks, and now that Lusam had slipped through his grasp once again, he was even more eager to claim his reward for releasing Aamon from the Netherworld. He was hoping that Aamon would bestow great power on him, and that he could use that power to kill Lusam once and for all.

  Lord Zelroth opened the heavy doors and stepped inside the Aznavor chamber. The Netherworld creature instantly became agitated by his presence there. It had learned over the many years that his arrival signified that it would soon be fed the lives of the shackled prisoners. It strained at its bonds, and hissed loudly towards the condemned men and women awaiting their fate. One woman screamed, but Lord Zelroth raised a hand, and with a single word silenced her from making another sound. Usually he would revel in their screams and pleas for mercy, but right now he simply wanted the information he sought.

  He had lost count of the number of prisoners he’d sacrificed lately to the Aznavor, and not once had Aamon replied to him. At first he had thought that Aamon was simply busy. But more recently he had begun to think that he was actually ignoring him.

  Lord Zelroth took his usual place within the chamber, then nodded towards one of his Inquisitors. The red robed Inquisitor unshackled one of the terrified prisoners and took control of his mind, then walked him like a stringless puppet towards the awaiting Aznavor. Lord Zelroth began the complex incantation to create the communication conduit to the Netherworld. When it first appeared it was no larger than a pinhead, but it grew rapidly with each recital of his incantation, until it resembled a large spinning disc of silver liquid, twice as tall as any man. Its surface shimmered and rippled, as if being disturbed by some unseen force.

  The Inquisitor had assessed Lord Zelroth’s dour mood, and taken it upon himself to silence the prisoner before sending him to his death. The man visibly shook from head to toe, and his eyes bulged from their sockets with fear, as the Inquisitor forced him to walk silently towards the waiting Aznavor. The creature hissed and screamed in anticipation, rearing up above the approaching man. Its six long tentacles were all pointing towards the prisoner, desperate for him to come within range of its own mind control.

  Just before he came within its range, the Inquisitor released his own control, and physically pushed the man towards the waiting Aznavor. It instantly locked onto his mind and took control of his body, forcing him to move continually forward, towards his own demise. He tried to scream, but no sound came out of his mouth. The Aznavor opened its massive jaws wide, and with the speed of a striking serpent, swallowed the man to his waist. Its six inch razor-sharp fangs pierced the man’s flesh, but it didn’t kill him. Instead, it began to draw out his magic, and send it back to the Netherworld through the summoned silver portal.

  Several of the prisoners cried out in fear, but were silenced almost immediately by the Inquisitors within the room. The large silver disc rippled from the centre outwards, as the Aznavor fed its magic into it. Lord Zelroth had fully expected it to be another wasted attempt, but suddenly a ghostly image began to appear within the silver pool. He dropped to his knees, and waited for the image to take shape. As soon as he could see Aamon’s face, he prostrated himself before his God.

  “I see that you have disappointed me yet again, Zelroth. Your attempt to reopen The Great Rift has failed, and now I also sense a new awakening within the w
orld,” Aamon said in an other-worldly voice.

  “I beg your forgiveness, my Lord. I will send someone to rectify the situation immediately, I assure you.”

  “You are already too late, fool. The dragon heart has been destroyed, and The Great Rift was only partially reopened. But no matter, I have already set plans in motion to ensure my own release from this prison. The Deceiver’s paladins are attempting to slow my progress, but my ultimate victory is now assured. With each passing hour I widen the tear, and soon my new army of Netherworld creatures will be unleashed upon the world.”

  “My Lord, you spoke of an awakening?” Lord Zelroth asked, clearly remembering the recently detected intrusion of Coldmont that he had thought was a trap.

  “Your incompetence vexes me, Zelroth. The awakening I sensed was in one of the men you sent to free me. The one you call, Zedd. The knowledge he now possesses was never meant for this world. I advise that you rectify the situation before I escape my prison,” Aamon said menacingly, as his image slowly faded away.

  Lord Zelroth couldn’t believe what he had just heard. How could such a weak mage read a Guardian book and survive? And how could he have been so naïve as to let it happen in the first place? And now Aamon was holding him personally responsible for it.

  He had dispelled the silver disc even before getting back to his feet. The unbridled rage which now flowed through him felt like it would boil his blood. He screamed as he released a massive fireball at the shackled prisoners, not caring how many of them he killed, or what damage he did to the room. Three were instantly incinerated, and another four screamed in agony as they burst into flames.

  “ZEDD!” Lord Zelroth screamed at the ceiling, tightly clenching his fists.

  He turned to one of his Inquisitors, and he visibly flinched. “I WANT HIM DEAD! Find out where his family lives. I want them dead too! And everyone else who ever knew him. GO!”

  The Inquisitor bowed his head, then half-sprinted from the room, no doubt glad to be away from his unpredictable wrath.

  Lord Zelroth turned back to watch the final death throes of the burning prisoners, as they writhed in agony whilst dangling by their shackled wrists.

  Chapter Forty

  Lusam remained unconscious well into the following day after they had hastily departed Irragin. During that time Neala remained by his side constantly, and barely spoke to the others while she cradled his head and softly stroked his hair. When he finally awoke, he was barely recognisable as the same person. He wouldn’t speak to anyone, including Neala, and sought what little solitude he could find on the small boat. He sat there for hours just staring at his mother’s amulet, or looking back across the sea in the direction of Irragin. Both Neala and Renn tried to lift his mood several times, but the overwhelming guilt of failing his mother seemed to have consumed him completely. He cried almost constantly, and no matter what Neala said or did, it made no difference at all. Renn had advised her to allow him time to grieve, but she hated to see him so upset and alone.

  The wind and weather had been very favourable for them on their return journey, and by early evening on their fifth day at sea they came within sight of Afaraon. Both Neala and Renn would have been happy to make landfall as soon as possible, but Durlan insisted that they should travel further north along the coastline while the winds were still so good. Renn had been forced to reluctantly agree with him, and explained to Neala about the difficult terrain they would face if they landed so far to the south. And so, another four days at sea gave Lusam even more time to sink into his ever deepening state of depression.

  When they eventually made landfall, they did so at a small fishing village north of Prystone. Durlan told them that he knew the people there, and so it would make it easier for them to procure horses and supplies for their onward journey to Lamuria. His prediction turned out to be correct, but soon his real reasons for choosing that particular destination also became clear. Durlan announced that he intended to remain in the small fishing village, and try to return to his old way of life as a fisherman. It seemed like witnessing the complete devastation which Lusam had wrought upon the Empire’s fleet of ships, had been enough to satiate his desire for revenge over the loss of his family and friends—or at least it had for now.

  Lusam stared at the flames as they licked against the thick logs in the fireplace. The flickering light shone through the crystal amulet he held in his hand, creating a myriad of colours which danced across his skin. He looked down at the amulet, and a single tear fell into his palm next to it. The amulet was the only thing he had left of his mother now. That, and the memories of those few short minutes he had spent with her in Irragin before her death.

  He knew that he should hold onto those precious memories, and even try to take strength from them. But he couldn’t. No matter how hard he tried to remember his mother’s face, or her smile, only one image filled his mind; that of the woman Lord Zelroth had first claimed to be his mother. Except the image in his mind was not one of a faceless corpse as he had seen in Irragin, but of his mother being skinned alive by one of Lord Zelroth’s Inquisitors. Day and night the same images plagued his thoughts, and it began to eat away at his very soul.

  He stared at the amulet in his hand, and contemplated tying it back around his neck. Even the terrifying dragon nightmares were preferable to what he was feeling right now. If he was lucky, maybe the dragon would finally kill him in his sleep, and he would no longer have to wake to this living nightmare.

  Neala watched Lusam from the other side of the room. He’d been silently staring at the fire for hours, but his attention was now on the amulet in his hand. She instinctively knew what was running through his mind, and moved her chair over to sit beside him next to the fire. She placed her hand over the top of his, and closed his hand around the amulet.

  “You don’t want to do that,” she said to him softly. He turned his head to look at her, then looked back at his closed hand again. “Come to bed, it’s late. We have a long ride ahead of us tomorrow.”

  Lusam didn’t reply. He had no idea how many days had passed since he had abandoned his mother to her death at the hands of Lord Zelroth. He didn’t even really know where he was right now, only that he was somewhere on the coast of Afaraon; and he didn’t really care. He turned back towards the fireplace, and watched the flames slowly consume everything before him. He barely felt Neala’s gentle kiss on his head, or heard her say that she loved him. But he heard his mother’s screams of agony in his mind, as clear as if he was standing right next to her.

  Lusam’s eyes grew heavy as he stared at the flickering flames, and soon he drifted off into the first real sleep he’d had in days. He soon found himself skimming across the surface of the ocean like a speeding bird. In the distance he could see a small island with steep rocky cliffs. The sea crashed against its tall white cliffs, and to the east he could see a large sea arch which had been carved out by the sea. It towered a hundred feet above the surface of the ocean, making its top almost flush with the land mass of the small island beside it. He banked suddenly towards the sea arch, rising high into the air on the sea breeze.

  He could see the desolate island much clearer from up here. There were no trees or signs of life on the small island. In fact, only a sparse amount of hardy grass covered its surface, and even that was broken up by a multitude of jagged rocks peppering the landscape. A single ruined building sat in the centre of the island, but it had long since collapsed. Now only the former outline of its walls, and the half-buried stones of its construction were testimony to it ever having being there.

  He banked again, then dived towards the opening of the rocky sea arch. The morning sun glistened off the surface of the ocean below, and as he passed through the arch, it flashed brightly in his eyes, momentarily blinding him to his surroundings. Strangely, it seemed warmer on the other side of the arch, and the sea much calmer. He felt the wind beneath his wings again, and he began to climb once more into the bright morning sky.

  The cliff
s were much higher on this side of the island. Maybe twice what they were on the west side. He soared higher and higher on the morning thermals, then circled back towards the now lush forested island below. His mind struggled to understand the sudden change, but he soon dismissed it and simply revelled in his flight. The thick forested island stretched out before him for as far as he could see. Birds and other strange creatures filled the air all around. Calls of wild animals could be heard echoing through the trees below, and telltale signs of campfires could be seen dotted around the strange new land.

  He soared high in the sky above the thick forest canopy. Open meadows to the east were filled with strange looking creatures, the likes of which he had never seen before. He swooped down to take a closer look at them, and they scattered into the surrounding forest, echoing their calls of warning as they went. One suddenly called out to him… Lusam. Then another… Lusam …

  His eyes snapped open as he was shaken awake. “Lusam… it’s time we were going now, lad,” Renn said, gently shaking his shoulder. Lusam’s mind struggled to readjust to his new surroundings. He looked at the fireplace and saw only embers. Hours must have passed, but it felt like he had only been asleep for a few minutes at most. He looked down at his tightly clenched hand, and realised that he was still clutching his mother’s amulet. A mixture of fear and confusion filled his mind. Had Renn shaken him awake before the dragon could find and torture him in his dream? Or had the dragon simply given up waiting for him? He stared at the amulet, not knowing what to think.

  “Are you alright, lad?” Renn asked. Lusam looked up at him and nodded, his mind still firmly back at the strange island in his dream. It was a strange sensation, but he felt like he had belonged there. It had felt more like home to him, than anywhere else had ever done in his life. He looked back at the amulet in his hand, then placed it safely in the pocket of his tunic.