by S. G. Rogers
“I agree. Let's get out of here,” Jon said.
They formed a square. Jon concentrated on Ophelia, but her eyes stayed dim.
“Make with the magic already,” Fred said.
Jon’s brows knitted together. “I don't know what's wrong. I can't seem to concentrate. It was the same way when I was drawing the sword, and now it’s worse.”
“Refractory period,” Casey said.
“Huh?” Fred asked.
“Jon used a lot of energy transporting all of us here, and then used more creating that sword,” Casey replied. “He needs some time to recover.”
“Now you tell us,” Fred moaned.
“I expect your magic is like a muscle, Jon,” Casey said. “You’ll get stronger the more you practice.”
A cygard stomped down the stairs. “The warlord awaits,” he grunted.
****
Jon, Kira, Casey, and Fred filed into the cavernous throne room. Casey shivered and stuck his hands in his pockets. Although dawn had not yet broken, the darkness outside was relieved slightly by Yden’s two moons. In addition, the chamber was well lit by the ball of light hovering near the ceiling. A black crowlike bird fluttered in a cage nearby. Fred gaped at the light.
“It just hangs there,” he said, pointing. “How does it do that?”
Mandral laughed. “It’s an everlasting orb, of course. One of Efysian’s best. It cost me a fair amount, but then I’ve always enjoyed the finer things in life.”
He beckoned them over to a table laden with food. “Sit and eat,” he said. “Let me show you some hospitality. I'm afraid we made a bad beginning upon first acquaintance, young dragon wizard.”
Fred plopped down at the table and grabbed an enormous roasted leg of puleden, fragrant, hot, and juicy. As he bit into the meat, Kira slapped the back of his head. The meat flew out of his mouth.
“Hey!” Fred protested.
“I wouldn’t eat or drink anything if I were you. Mandral is known for thirteen different methods of poisoning his enemies,” she said.
Mandral laughed. He picked up a piece of roasted meat and bit into it. “See? You have nothing to fear.”
He beckoned to a serving girl, who offered Jon a goblet of wine.
“No thanks,” Jon said. He focused his gaze on Mandral. “What have you done with Brett?”
Mandral drained the goblet himself before making a reply. “Brett,” he echoed. He seemed to savor the word as if it were honey. “Brett. What a charming name.” He brought her lock of hair from his pocket and pressed it to his lips. “I'm sure she is equally charming in other ways.”
From deep within him, in a place Jon didn’t know existed, a well of fury boiled over. His arm snapped forward and a ball of fire erupted from his hand, aimed straight at the warlord. As Mandral dove to the ground, the ball of fire exploded in the air where his head had been moments before. Burning embers fell onto his cloak, and the cygards were unable to do anything but stare. The bird squawked, and Casey, Kira, and Fred gasped in surprise.
Mandral yanked off his singed garment and got to his feet. “Very good, wizard, but why don't you save your magic tricks for your real enemy?”
“I know my enemies when I see them,” Jon replied. “Give Brett back now.”
“I do not have Brett, but I can tell you where she is. Let us strike a bargain quickly, since she is in grave danger,” Mandral said.
“Don’t negotiate with him, Jon,” Kira spat. “We can recover Brett ourselves.”
“Not likely...Jon,” Mandral mocked. “You need my help. I’ve begun to unite all the territories and will have a massive army at my disposal within weeks.”
“I don’t believe you,” Kira said.
Mandral gestured toward a window. “See for yourself. It has already begun.”
With a wary glance at the warlord, Kira looked through the window to survey the grounds below. She recoiled in shock. “That’s my father's banner, but the Nomads would never agree to serve you!”
“I beg to differ,” Mandral replied. “In fact, since your father was in the neighborhood, the Nomads were my first recruits.”
“What evil enchantments have you and Efysian wrought?” Kira cried.
“Efysian is responsible, I admit, but through no magic. He has declared himself our common enemy, Kira. Ally yourself with me, dragon wizard, and I shall help you find your friend.”
“We'll find her ourselves,” Jon replied.
“Your refusal is too hasty. I should think you eager to defeat the wizard who killed your entire clan.”
“We’re wasting our time here, Jon,” Kira said.
“I will have the greatest army ever assembled, Kira,” the warlord said. “Yours to command if you agree to become my wife.”
“You have the beginnings of an army, Mandral,” Kira acknowledged. “Whether or not you can keep it remains to be seen.”
With a wary glance at the cygards positioned around the throne room, Jon, Kira, Fred, and Casey backed out of the chamber and shut the double doors as they departed.
****
Minister Tyrg emerged from the curtains concealing a workroom behind Mandral's throne. He tossed the crossbow in his hands down on the table with a thump. The weapon accidentally discharged, sending an arrow into an unlucky cygard standing guard nearby. The cygard crumpled into a noisy heap. Neither Tyrg nor Mandral seemed to notice.
“You are allowing Jon Hansen to leave, Warlord?” Tyrg asked. “Forgive me, but is that entirely wise?”
“I’m not letting him leave, Tyrg,” Mandral replied. “I'm sending him to Efysian.” The warlord opened the cage and coaxed the black bird onto his hand. “My spyrrow will follow. Jon Hansen will attempt to rescue his ladylove, and he will lead my army straight to the Wolf Clan wizard's den.”
“His escape was far too easy,” Tyrg observed. “Surely the young wizard will suspect something.”
“Send cygards to stop him, if you like,” Mandral replied. “The cygards will die in the attempt, but the idiots can always be replaced.”
After the warlord tossed the spyrrow into the air, it circled the throne room and then flew out a window. Mandral and Tyrg moved over to the crystal ball centerpiece on the dining table. In the crystal was reflected a bird's-eye view of his castle as the spyrrow circled in the glimmering dawn, waiting.
“This spyball is one of the most useful pieces of magic Efysian ever wrought for you,” Tyrg said.
Mandral chuckled. “Ironic, isn’t it, that it will also be his downfall?”
****
Jon and his friends regrouped outside the throne room while debating their next move.
“Mandral's going to let us walk away?” Casey asked. “It makes me suspicious of his motives.”
“Maybe he was afraid JonBoy was going to boil his greasy head,” Fred said. “By the way, what was with the spicy meatball?” He mimed throwing a baseball.
When Jon examined the palms of his hands, the skin appeared perfectly normal, with not so much as a blister. “I don't know. I just reacted when Mandral ticked me off.”
“Jon, you can't afford to get angry. Remember, you must conserve your energy whenever possible. We can't risk a refractory period in an emergency,” Casey said.
The truth of Casey’s words was confirmed when Jon noticed Ophelia’s eyes were barely luminous. “You’re right. I need to work smarter from now on.”
“Are you able to transport us someplace else?” Kira asked. “We cannot leave the castle otherwise.”
“Wait a minute, Kira, didn't you see Nomads outside? Wouldn't your father be able to escort us from here safely?” Casey asked.
Kira averted her eyes. “There was a contract of marriage. When I escaped, I dishonored the Nomads. My father is entitled to have me executed.”
“That's way harsh,” Fred said. “Couldn't he just ground you?”
“So how do we leave?” Casey asked.
A spiral of stone steps nearby led up to the castle's central tower.
>
“Let's get to the top of these stairs,” Jon said. “I have an idea.”
They emerged from a turret onto an expansive lookout ringed by a parapet. By now, dawn had broken.
“Wow, two suns,” Casey observed. “Yden must have very long days.”
“Our nighttime is more brief than that on Yrth,” Kira replied. “The large sun is Solegra. The smaller sun is his wife, Solendra. Nighttime is lit by their two moon children, Lunegra and Lunendra.”
Fred made a sound of frustration. “Enough of the 'astrolomy' lesson—”
“Astronomy,” Casey supplied.
“Whatever it's called. Unless Jon can draw us a hot air balloon or a hang glider, I don’t see how we’re getting down,” Fred said.
“I can do better than that,” Jon said.
He pulled a red marking pen out of his knapsack, dropped to his knees, and began to sketch on the stone in large, broad strokes.
“What are you drawing?” Kira asked.
“A mode of transportation, hopefully,” Jon replied. “If this works, I won't be expending all my energy using the cuff.”
Fred watched Jon work. “It's a dragon!” he chortled, finally. “I’ve always liked connect-the-dots.”
“Is that a good idea?” Casey asked Jon.
“Efysian killed off the dragons. It's time I brought them back.”
“No, I mean dragons breathe fire, don't they? How do you know it's going to be a friendly dragon?” Casey asked.
The completed drawing shimmered against the dawn and began to take shape. Suddenly Jon was consumed with doubt. “You've got a point, Casey,” he said. “Maybe we should wait inside.”
Unfortunately, the turret staircase was now filled with the echo of cygards in pursuit. Jon’s heart sank when he noticed Lyesh leading the charge. Kira brandished her sword. “We are cut off!”
Jon winced as a colossal-sized dragon materialized in the open space where his drawing had been. “Get behind the turret!” he yelled. “Fast!”
The turret was made out of stone blocks he hoped would provide protection from fire. Although the four of them made it to safety in time to avoid a blazing-hot blast of dragon fire, the cygards unwittingly ran right into it. As the other cygards screamed in agony, Lyesh lurched past the turret, in flames, and flipped over the parapet. Several seconds later, he hit the ground with a sickening crash.
Fred dug his elbow into Jon’s ribs. “Good going, cheese wiz,” he whispered. “We're all gonna be human marshmallows.”
They waited in eerie silence.
“Maybe the dragon flew away?” Casey whispered.
Jon craned his neck, but the only thing he saw overhead was a black bird circling in the sky. Suddenly the tip of a huge bright red tail curled around the turret and whomped the stones beside them. The whole tower shook with the vibration, and Fred let out a startled yelp. The tail coiled out of sight once more and then there came a grating sound, like sandpaper on wood.
“What’s that noise?” Casey whispered.
Jon shook his head. “I don’t know.”
Bracing himself against injury and/or death, he edged around the side of the turret to peek at the monster he’d created. The animal was as big as a single-engine Cessna airplane, and its scales shone like a freshly washed fire engine. The grating sound was the sound of the dragon’s tongue licking its hide.
“It’s grooming itself like a cat in the sun,” Jon said over his shoulder.
The dragon's eyes caught him. As Jon froze in fear, the creature lowered his head and nudged a crisped cygard with his snout. The dragon seemed to wink and snort with laughter. Then he folded up his fifteen-foot wings, lolled over on his back, and waited for Jon to scratch his tummy.
Gulping, he worked his way closer. When he put his hand on the dragon's belly, the animal arched his back in invitation. The dragon's tail smacked the floor with pleasure as Jon stroked him. Unable to contain his joy, Jon hollered in delight.
“What's happening, Jon?” Casey called out.
“The dragon's probably eating him,” Fred offered.
Kira jumped into the open, sword held high. But her warrior cry died in her throat at the sight of Jon petting the dragon's tough hide.
“He likes me!” he yelled. “I'm going to call him Adam!”
Chapter Sixteen
Wolf Mountain
Pressing herself as flat as possible, Brett squirmed forward underneath the smaller thumblike talon. Her head and left shoulder cleared the pointed claw easily enough, but then the sharp tip sliced deeply into the top of her right shoulder. Biting back a scream of pain, she forced herself to keep moving until she was free from the cage. Afterward, she pulled off her now-mangled sweater and pressed it against her torn flesh to stop the copious bleeding.
When the pain subsided, Brett discarded the sweater and searched the cavern for a clue about where she was and how to get home. A number of animal skins carpeted the stone floor, and the furnishings were fashioned from bones or claws. Pretty much everything she saw gave her the creeps. “What is this, retro caveman décor with a twist?”
She found a long desk covered with parchments, inkwells, and quills. A freestanding wall of scrolls nearby formed some kind of extensive library. Brett unrolled one of the scrolls, but the runelike symbols written on it didn’t mean anything to her.
Of far more interest was a large, crystalline bowl on one corner of the desk filled with dozens of rings and amulets. The rings were similar in style to the one she’d seen Jon wear, but with different themes. The attractive ring with two suns was tempting, but Brett left it alone. Most likely the jewelry was stolen property that should be returned to its rightful owners. She’d be sure to let the police know about it when she pressed charges.
In the books stacked next to the desk, Brett noticed an atlas along with different books about cultures and customs from the United States and other countries. When contrasted with their extraordinary surroundings, the familiar books struck Brett as out of place.
The blue-white light illuminating the cavern gave a sudden flare. Brett crept closer to investigate. She was shocked to discover a handsome man standing in the center of a column of light. His eyes were closed and the man appeared to be asleep, or immobilized. Was he a prisoner like her?
“Hello?” Brett said, but he didn’t respond.
The leather aviator jacket and baseball cap worn by her kidnapper lay on the ground. She shuddered in distaste as she remembered the man’s hand on her shoulder. Nevertheless, the cavern was chilly, so Brett slipped the jacket on. Although it was far too large, the garment felt comforting and warm. When she jammed her hands in the pockets, she discovered a wallet containing several credit cards, cash, and a driver’s license. As Brett studied the license, she realized the face in the photo was the same as the man standing before her.
“Dr. Hansen?” she gasped.
This time, the column of light flickered and dimmed. Brett rushed toward the light, but she found herself knocked backward onto the hard stone floor. She’d run right into some kind of invisible force field—but outside the movies, no such thing existed, did it? When she picked herself up and flexed her shoulder, she was puzzled to find the pain had gone away.
“Dr. Hansen, I'm a friend of Jon's.” Was it her imagination, or did the light pulse? “I'm going to get you out.”
As if testing a hot iron, she touched her fingertip to the surface of the column. Her hand darted back when she felt something like an electric shock. “I'm sorry, but there's a kind of force field here, and I don’t know how to turn it off. I have to get help.”
“Who are you?” a female voice demanded.
Her nerves shot, Brett nearly jumped straight onto a stalagmite. As if things weren’t already weird enough, the voice belonged to a gorgeous woman who could have easily posed for the cover of an old-fashioned romance novel.
“Efysian is mine,” Lialia said.
“Okay, but his name is Dr. Hansen. I hate to break it to you,
but he's married with two kids,” Brett said.
“Not him, silly child. Efysian is the wizard who brought you here, although I cannot understand what he would see in such a scrawny specimen.”
“Wizard?” Brett scoffed. “I'd call him more of a career criminal.”
“Silence!” Lialia said, tossing her luxurious hair. “He is my master.”
“Haven't you ever heard of women's liberation?”
Lialia’s expression was blank.
“Whatever,” Brett said. “Help me turn this thing off.” She poked the force field. “We have to make sure Dr. Hansen is all right.”
“Greggoran is alive. He will endure far longer than any of the others. He is the source of Efysian's energy,” Lialia replied.
