The obsidian dragon was forced to break his hold and hastily get clear as the monster launched a ferocious counter-attack. The predator missed and was rewarded with dragon claws raking across its hide. It was to Loric's advantage to stay close to the barrier, because he could retreat behind it at any time and the predator could not follow.
The Knight Cavalry had managed to get Callie halfway to the Corridor by this time, and the Dragon Cavalry were under orders to make protecting Callie and Air, not engaging the enemy, their top priority just in case it broke past the famed Black Dragon of Avidon.
Fame meant nothing to this creature, though, and a fresh onslaught forced the obsidian to retreat to safety. Four Dragon Cavalry were formed into a quad - a small, efficient force prepared to harass the enemy. It would be a huge risk, they knew, but this was why they were Knights.
Just at that moment, however, the battlefield changed again.
Chapter 12
It started in the distance, like a sandstorm, but the sandstorm was moving in a straight line at high speed. The dragon predator spotted it, too, stiffed the air and turned to face the strange phenomenon. Sir Marcus had spent a lot of time around dragons, and although this thing was no dragon, he believed there were enough similarities to read its expressions, and this was something new. It was an expression he had seen only rarely in a dragon, before this very battle, and its rarity made it all the more shocking, now that it was displayed by this monster.
The expression was fear.
What could possibly scare this beast? Sir Marcus wondered. He soon got his answer. He had never actually seen the creature that shimmered into reality, dropping its camouflage, but he knew the legends and of course a handful of his own Knights had seen it first hand and given their reports: the basilisk.
When it had first emerged from its hibernation, in those tunnels of the dark elves, magically shielded to keep it on the edge of starvation, it had been confused and clumsy. Lady Tanya Nightingale had outmanoeuvred, outsmarted the creature, but they had spared its life at Phaer's behest. Later, when Phaer had visited it in the forest, it had regained most of its strength and was just beginning to get into its stride. Now it was restored to peak condition, with energy to spare for camouflage. Its hide was strong, supple and exceedingly healthy, with no sign whatsoever of the injuries it had sustained not long ago. With its naked, scaleless skin, two forelegs like tree trunks, a spring loaded prehensile tail and no wings, it was very different to a dragon, but Sir Marcus could easily see why the half-elf had spoken up to save its life: it was truly magnificent. And to think, it was a discarded reject of the dark elves while the dragon predator was their crowning achievement - it just showed how twisted those people were.
The basilisk was closing the ground with lightning speed; it seemed nothing could stand in its way. A small force of chaos creatures chose that moment to invade the battlefield. They quickly regretted it. The Basilisk tore a few apart with tooth and claw and then turned its gaze upon the rest, which petrified in seconds. A bold Sapphire Dragon Knight got curious, flying low to examine the new arrival and was promptly knocked out of the air as the basilisk jumped with its tail, covering a considerable distance before regaining contact with the ground. Its pace never wavered; it was inexorable. As for the unfortunate dragon, he landed on his back in a pile of soft sand, having injured nothing more than his pride.
Knight Commander Stefan blew his horn to sound an attack, but his superior immediately countermanded it from his own horn before galloping his horse over and knocking his subordinate from the saddle.
“You are out of line, Commander!” He yelled. “Phaer told us the basilisk isn't inherently hostile and I believe him!”
“But sir, it attacked a dragon! That demands a response!” “I t did no such thing! Use your head, commander! It's got teeth, claws and a petrifying stare, but it just gently bumped the dragon. The basilisk was just telling us to keep out of the way. This isn't our fight anymore: this is between the basilisk and that monstrosity and I for one intend to cheer on the basilisk all the way. Now, get back on your horse and make yourself useful by sounding the general retreat.” “Yes, Sir.”
“The bier party hasn't got far to go now, and it looks like the monster's going to be tied up for a while. Much as I'd love to stay and watch, it's time we weren't here.”
The Knight Commander obeyed the order and the entire Company of Knights regrouped for an orderly retreat back through the Corridor. Meanwhile, the dragon predator continued to stand its ground, as if unsure what to make of the basilisk. It was a mistake. The basilisk crashed headlong into the monster with a concussive blast like a thunderbolt, throwing it against the magical barrier. It struggled to free itself, but the basilisk was relentless and merciless. The predator pushed back with all its strength, but the basilisk– lacking the hollow bones of a dragon - weighed far more than one would imagine, even taking its immense size into account. And it was getting stronger, feeding off the energy of the barrier.
The predator's fierce, random thrashings paid off and it broke free, just for an instant. Just long enough to jump over the basilisk's head. But the basilisk reacted even faster, using its powerful tail to launch itself into a backward somersault, catching its enemy in its jaws as it fell to the ground, burying it several feet underground with a sandy basilisk on top.
Somehow, the predator managed to get a good angle to apply pressure and push the basilisk off. Roles were reversed, then, as the monster launched a frenzied attack, forcing the basilisk to slowly retreat. But the basilisk was cunning. It could sense that the magic of barrier was passable at ground level, so it crawled underneath and jumped vertically. The predator took the bait and leaped at its enemy, bouncing painfully off the shield. Since the barrier only prevented movement in one direction, the basilisk seized the chance to leap through it and clamp its jaws around the other's throat, only to receive a heavy blow somewhere sensitive, causing it to reflexively let go.
While this battle of the titans raged, Callie's bier party made it all the way to the mouth of Corridor. Sir Marcus was pleased to note that the mission had been a success. It had been costly - five Sapphire Knight fatalities, many injuries ranging from serious to minor and a few human casualties as well. They had known the risks, however, and he knew his entire Knighthood would consider this to have been worthwhile.
As soon as Callie was carried safely into the Corridor, under Air's watchful gaze, Loric initiated some fine intricate flying to hover low over Sir Marcus Braithwaite's horse and gently pick up the prone form of Phaer with delicate claws.
“What are you doing?” asked the Knight leader.
“The Elder Dragon of Water doesn't just heal dragons. Maybe he can help Phaer, too.”
With that, he flew off, straight into the Corridor without hesitation. The Dragon Cavalry followed, taking the network back to the camp. The withdrawal of the Infantry was no problem - any chaos creatures that might have been around had been well and truly scared off by these events.
Sir Marcus was the last to leave the battlefield, but before he did, he took once last look at the struggle that continued between two creatures that he hadn't even known existed only weeks before. As he turned to leave, the basilisk seemed to look his way. It was too far to see its eyes, but he could feel the power behind them. His pulse quickened for a brief moment, but the gaze was harmless. As Phaer had said, it was only lethal if it chose to make it so, just as a cat's claws were only dangerous if it decided to scratch you. He had no way of knowing if it understood, but Supreme Knight Commander Sir Marcus Braithwaite, leader of the Knights of Balance, gave the basilisk a Knight's salute - the kind he normally reserved for his dragon Knights.
“Victory and long life to you, most magnificent of creatures,” he eulogised.
Then, spurring his horse, he turned and entered the Corridor, his destination the camp.
Home.
* * * * *
Phaer came around to find himself on a bed apparently mad
e from some kind of fungus. It was soft and comfortable, and contained in a room that would not have looked out of place in the elven forests.
Where am I? He wondered.
The last thing he remembered was trying to control the dragon predator and feeling as though his brain were being sliced apart and his skin roasted over a fire. He guessed he must have blacked out. As he sat up, he was startled at the first thing he saw - fish. Great schools of fish swimming and dancing in front of his eyes. At first he was worried that his headaches and voices might have extended to hallucinations, but then he realised this room was inside a dome that was keeping the water out and him dry. It could only be the aquatic kingdom.
Fascinating!
He got up and looked out of the - well, `window` didn't do it justice, but `looked out of the wall` sounded silly. Whatever it was, it was transparent and he was looking through it.
It's like a giant goldfish bowl, he realised, only in reverse: Here the fish are on the outside.
So he looked out of the bowl at the sheer variety of life out there. It was simply stunning, and as an elf he was completely swept away by it. This was a side of nature few forest elves ever got to see.
The headaches and skin irritation were back, he noted, but down here they seemed like little more than an inconvenience, somehow.
Yes, he decided, this would be a wonderful place to live...or to die.
He was interrupted from his seagazing by a tall, blue-green skinned sea elf. Once again, Phaer was fascinated.
Suddenly, he remembered that it was rude to stare. “I'm sorry,” he apologised. “It's just that I've never seen one of my aquatic cousins before.”
“No doubt,” he agreed, “and I'm afraid you still haven't. I am not at all what I appear to be. It's simply a form I choose to better associate with the people of the aquatic kingdom.”
“You're a dragon,” Phaer concluded.
“A little more than that, if you'll forgive the conceit. I am the Elder Dragon of Water. You may call me Aqua.”
“I'm honoured to meet you, sir.”
“`Sir` is also acceptable,” Aqua grinned. “We're going to get along famously, I can tell. But that's all the time we have for pleasantries, sadly. Come with me.”
Aqua led Phaer to a large chamber, in which the floor was made of warm sand - perfect comfort for a dragon. In the centre of the sandy floor lay the dullish grey form of Callie. She looked terrible.
“I have grave news,” said Aqua. “Callie is almost at Death's Door. Too far gone for me to help her where she is now.”
“What do you mean, `where she is now`?” Phaer demanded.
“I think you know, or at least the voices do.”
Phaer was instantly defensive. “Voices? What are you talking about?”
“The voices in your head,” Aqua stated, flatly.
“Don't be stupid! Hearing voices? I'm not crazy!” “Don't lie to me, Phaer.” Aqua didn't raise his voice, but Phaer flinched anyway. “If you are hearing voices, you can help me save Callie. If not, she dies. Which is more important, Phaer: your secrets or Callie's life?”
Phaer growled in frustration. “Alright! I'm hearing voices! I'm crazy, fine, whatever!”
“I never said you were crazy,” Aqua rebuked him.
“What else would you call someone who's hearing voices?”
“The same thing I would call someone with splitting headaches and blistering skin: a patient.” “You can cure me?”
“No, I can only hold back the symptoms, temporarily reduce your pain, and only as long as you stay away from powerful magic. That would accelerate your condition. To be cured, you need to get back to that Catalyst friend of yours.”
“Eilidh? What does she have to do with it? She can't cure my illness.”
“I never said you were ill, either. You don't listen very well, do you?” “If I'm a patient, that implies I need treatment; if I need treatment, I must be ill,” the half-elf reasoned.
“If you had broken your leg,” Aqua countered, “you would not be ill, but you would need treatment nonetheless. Anyway, it’s something of a moot point, since there’s no way to get you to her.”
“What’s wrong with the Corridors?” Phaer asked.
“Some of the chaos creatures down here exhibit some strange antimagic properties,” Aqua explained.
In a recent battle, near a public terminal, a few had broken through the defensive lines and got into inside one of the Corridors where they promptly exploded.
“Ever since then, that whole section of the network has been fluctuating and a few unfortunate travellers have come out…wrong.”
“Wrong?” Phaer asked. “Let’s just say there are some things even I can’t fix. You’re lucky you got through in one piece. Anyway, we don't have time to worry about you just now. I need you to go and get Callie. Bring her back here.”
“But she's right there,” Phaer pointed to the warm sand on which she lay.
“I don't mean it like that.”
“I don't understand.”
“Yes you do. It just doesn't make any sense to you. But it doesn't have to make sense. You just have to do it.”
Phaer was shaking his head, confused. Not confused because he didn't understand, but confused because he did.
“Stop fighting your instincts, Phaer. Do what must be done.” Surrendering to his instincts, then, the ranger sat down on the sand and prepared himself.
“Oh, and Phaer,” Aqua said. “Remember that powerful magic I warned you to stay away from? This thing you’re about to do…this would qualify.”
“Now you tell me,” Phaer grumbled and promptly shut his eyes.
* * * * * When he opened them, he found himself sitting not on sand, but on grass in a field. Ahead, in the distance, he could make out a stone wall stretching from left to right, with no end visible at either side. It was interrupted by a single door. Quite what a door was doing in the middle of a field, he couldn't guess, but it seemed right that it should be there, somehow.
The voices told him so. He was sitting on the left bank of a wide, fast flowing river, hurtling towards the door, flowing through it and out the other side. Again, this was what he expected to see, though it made no sense. Somehow, he knew the river continued on a straight path through several doors in several walls. Seven Doors there were in total. The one behind him was the First Door, but he wasn't interested in that one yet. He had to find Callie and there was only one way to do that.
Calling upon his elven grace, he jumped up and leaped into the water. It was surprisingly warm, although the voices told him he shouldn't be surprised at all. As quickly as he dared, he began to wade through the waist deep water. It was absolutely imperative that he not lose his footing. If he did, he would be swept away by the river and would surely die.
Nevertheless, he had to be quick. Callie didn't have long. He passed through the Second Door, entering a similar field to that which he had just left. Was it his imagination, or was the greenery a little sparser and the water a shade cooler? Still, it made for very pleasant surroundings. He passed through the Third Door without incident.
The third zone confirmed his suspicions about the second - the flowers were thin on the ground, the grass finer and paler, and the water, while still very pleasant, was cooler again. And he didn't much care for the fish in the river. They seemed agitated, almost aggressive, rubbing their bodies against his soft leather boots in a way that was quite uncomfortable. Still, he pressed on.
The Fourth Door passed into a zone that could hardly be characterised as a field at all. It looked wet and muddy, with only occasional tufts of grass. The river had turned decidedly cool, the kind of temperature that was fine at first, but could become distinctly unpleasant if he were in it for some time. And the fish here had teeth. It would take them a while to nibble through his boots, but they were certainly giving it a good try. He was tempted to give the things a kick, but he knew if he did so, he couldn't maintain his balance with one foot and would
fall into the water. And that would be bad.
Phaer settled for trying to up the tempo a little, as he passed through the Fifth Door into bushland. Little grew here - just a few tenacious plants clinging to life, mostly by the riverbanks. He cried out in pain as an eel bit a hole in his left boot, allowing frigid water to rush in. The eel gave him an electric shock before swimming away. Another stopped by and did the same to his right foot. The biting and shocks grew more painful and more frequent as he pressed on. This prompted him to draw his short swords and stab at the annoying creatures, being careful not to stab his own feet in the process. He managed to kill one of the creatures, but it got some measure of revenge when in its death throes, it send an electric shock up through his sword, giving the ranger a jolt so painful, he needed all of his elven grace not to fall into the river. After that, he had no choice but to tolerate the aquatic attack, though he still kept his weapons to hand, just in case.
The Sixth Door was a welcome sight...what he encountered behind it was not. It contradicted the laws of nature, but this zone was a desert furnace with an ice-cold river running through it. He couldn't stand in this water for long. He would get frostbite, maybe hypothermia. And the blizzard didn't help...or was it a sandstorm? Actually, he realised, it was both.
The creatures in the water in this zone were even more vicious - Phaer wondered if he would still have ten toes at the end of this. He called out for Callie, but he couldn't believe she could possibly hear him in this.
That's when he was attacked.
They came from each side - hairy humanoids - five, maybe six of them. Either they were clad in furs, or else the fur was growing on their bodies, the ranger wasn't sure and didn't waste time trying to find out. Phaer was thankful he already had his swords out; these were rather more threatening than any fish.
Choice (Majaos Book 3) Page 15
