“It fled,” Dana said softly, fatigued. She noticed the Scepter and walked to get it.
“It has the Horn still,” I said. “We have to follow it.”
“How?” Kiera asked.
I held my face in terrible sorrow and shook my head. Thak was dead.
Kiera nodded, looking back the way he had died. She took a terrified step back.
A shadow filled the doorway. A dragon’s white snout filled the way we had come from, and it grinned. The voice that came out of the maw, was a female one. “I’ll help you. Will be my pleasure. My name is Morginthax.”
CHAPTER 22
Dana held on to the Scepter.
We took steps back. Then more. Morginthax frowned. “What’s the matter, you worms? I said I’d help. That there is the Masked One.”
“We know,” I said. “And why would you help us?”
She slithered around us, looking after the beast that was flying away, shedding flesh, skin, on fire. “I made an oath.”
“We all make oaths,” I said, looking at the thing smoothly walking around us. “And I, the day that egg-breaking, turd-loving bastard locked us in, swore I’d fight him and every creature that worships Hel.” She hissed, her eyes bright red. “He killed my mate, while I watched. And now I shall get my revenge.”
Her eyes fixed on Kiera.
“There’s one I’ll devour,” she hissed. “Hel’s spawn.”
I stepped forward and before Kiera. “We will need to recover the Horn. Gjallarhorn. And no, I have no time to explain why.”
She stood still, her eyes never leaving Kiera. Finally, she nodded. “I’ll help you. But not her.” She walked past us and stared up to the sky. “I will carry us there.”
Kiera looked at it, with loathing and anger. She looked at me with an unreadable expression. Then at Dana. “Is it time to solve our problems now?” she asked.
I gave her a begging look. “We will take the Horn and the Scepter. Just don’t stop us and we won’t touch Shannon.”
She stiffened and looked down, fighting the undead loyalty she had for Shannon. She had not been able to, in the past. Her eyes flicked to the Scepter and then to me. “Ulrich—” she started, and shook her head heavily. “She is my mistress.”
“And I was your lover,” I said miserably.
“How exotic,” the dragon grumbled. “Like mating with a frog.”
Kiera looked like she was breathing, though she wasn’t. She had no breath to spare, but her misery was clear in her face. “What shall we do?”
“We will go down there, and see what can be salvaged,” I said, breathing a sigh of relief.
We walked to the dragon, and looked down.
What was taking place by the ridge, was pandemonium.
Shannon had nearly defeated Ban.
Glittering regiments of Scardark’s troops had assaulted Ban’s positions. Tens of thousands had pushed to the ridge, leaving heaps of bodies behind. Thirty thousand of Ban’s troops were slowly retreating away from the ridge for the city. Many siege machines were on fire. Screams were echoing across the land, booms of war machines shooting their ammunition, and war magic was ripping flesh and armor into pieces. The battle was terrible, bloody and merciless. “By all the gods,” the dragon breathed, “I’ve not seen the like before in the Vastness.”
Fifty thousand of Shannon’s warriors were marching after the enemy. Ban himself was in the midst of his own contingent of guard, the fierce females and their spears bristling just behind the front lines. He and his nobles were calling war magic against the approaching armies, and arrows fell thickly on both troops. Shannon was holding back, just below the ridge, and I could see her guard, and perhaps her in the middle of the reserves, tens of thousands strong still.
“Why isn’t she pushing all her troops up?” Dana whispered, as if it was a crime to break the silence.
“That is the reason,” Kiera said with loathing. “Aldheim is here.”
At the end of the Way of Echoes, an army was heaving to sight. They were the draugr, tens of thousands of them, and they turned to block the gate to the road.
Behind them, the star standards of the regent billowed. Spells of light illuminated the land there, as elven troops sought to end Shannon for good. A savage attack against the draugr took place. Countless numbers of elves pushed the draugr back, then back again. Shannon was looking that way, and hesitating. It would take the enemy time to get through the draugr and on to the bridge. How long?
Had she even noticed the huge beasts circling far, far above her? I saw the Masked One, burning up there with the others, waiting, probably nearly dead.
Shannon didn’t react to the dragons. Horns were blowing desperately, the armies on top of the ridge screamed defiance. They attacked Ban’s army with vigor, and thousands of shields struck shields, spells cut death across both armies. A troop of hundreds of jotuns were aiming for Ban himself, who turned to grasp a horn, which he blew.
From the side, the lizard-riding army appeared. The thousands surged across the land, flanked the embattled regiments and turned to swamp them. Shannon’s generals screamed orders, one fell dead under the assault. Orcs rushed behind the enemy cavalry. Shannon’s own cavalry took off, also ten thousand strong on the hugely powerful lizards, but not before the right flank of her hard-fighting army was embroiled in a flank attack. I could see regiments forming porcupines, spears bristling as both Ban infantry and cavalry enveloped them. Some held, spilling hundreds of riders from their saddles, but one, a regiment of silver-clad svartalfs was slow, and broke. Thousands of enemy surged inside the formation, hacking and killing. A spell of ice split the land to block the riders, then the maa’dark fell, pierced, and a horde of orcs surged past Ban cavalry, his last reserves, hoping to break the now surrounded armies.
Shannon’s army took steps back, then back again to the edge of the ridge, slaying as it went, but Ban’s army didn’t give an inch. They killed as they marched, thousands of arrows falling on Shannon’s army. A troop of jotuns, staunch and unyielding, were isolated inside Ban’s army.
Shannon ordered her reserve army forward, finally. The rest of her troops, fifty thousand strong surged up the ridge.
“Terrible battle,” Dana whispered.
“It is,” the dragon agreed. “And it’s going to get worse.”
The draugr were fighting well, had lost thousands, and were on the Markudin now. They retreated to the tower that guarded the far end and there Almheir Bardagoon was fighting. All the remaining Bardagoon and Safiroon armies were avenging themselves, finally, and savagely, mercilessly, they pushed to the tower, then the bridge, which turned into a charnel house of punching spears, swords, and spells.
“How will we get the Horn?” Dana wondered. “They are just gliding there.”
“Yes,” Morginthax said, and pointed a claw to the great heights. “There they are. Conimar, The Lidless Snake, Tillianc, all of them. But I think they must join the battle soon.”
Indeed, far above the battle the dragons were fluttering. There, the Masked One, still on fire was gliding around, probably cursing the elves who were coming to rob them of their victory.
He was right to think so. The elves were winning.
The draugr broke, their loyalty spent.
Twenty thousand fled across the bridge, and Shannon was pulling at ten thousand of Scardark’s troops to stop their flight and to rush to the bridge.
“We have to get Nött now,” I cursed. “I might not be allied to Shannon anymore, but I don’t want her to die. Nött might help her, spare her.” I nodded. “She might bring back the gods.”
“Should have thought of that earlier,” Kiera said bitterly.
“The Scepter has the power to open her prison?” Dana asked the dragon, looking at it.
“It has that power,” Morginthax said uncertainly. “It does. But I’m not sure Nött will help you.”
“Nött,” I breathed. “She is our only chance. We need her. The butchery must end.”
And then, Kiera attacked.
She slapped me down so hard I rolled downhill. Her blade thrust, and she punched it at a shocked Dana. She was fast too, and the sphere blinked to life around her. The spell absorbed the strike, but it didn’t absorb Kiera, who pummeled into her. They fell at the feet of the dragon, that was as shocked as I was. Kiera pressed a hand on Dana’s mouth. She yanked at the Scepter, but Dana held it with panic. “Let go!” Kiera cursed.
“No, it’s—”
Kiera nodded. “Let’s see, then. I held it when a First Born was trying to take it. But you are much more fragile,” she said and braided together a spell of darkness which she pushed to Dana’s mouth. She left Dana breathless, panic in her eyes.
She let go of the Scepter.
Morginthax whirled, and struck down at Kiera with a sharp claw. She dodged, rolled away, holding the Scepter aloft. She charged to the shadows to avoid the dragon, which surged after her.
I rushed forward, but Kiera disappeared, the dragon missing her.
She appeared before me, pulled me to her, butted her head into my face. I saw dark and fell on my back. She was on me in a moment. “There, love. We’ll be together soon.” She grinned, pulled at my belt, and flashed the mirror of Raven’s Flight, and tapped it four times.
A doorway opened up, she surged inside, and the gate closed.
I turned to look at Ban’s city. She was gone.
I crawled to Dana.
I cradled her and shuddered at Dana’s horrified eyes. She was gagging, darkness billowing from her mouth. I grabbed her, tried to make her stay still, but she was convulsing, her eyes huge with fear.
The dragon loomed over us. She changed, and a woman with green eyes, long white hair and red skin, kneeled next to us. She was murmuring spells and holding Dana’s face, and whatever she cast, it helped, as the choking spell dissipated. I breathed a sigh of relief as Dana hugged me, still terrified.
Morginthax sighed as well and nodded towards the battle. “I guess we will have to go after her.”
I nodded. “Yes.”
Up above, the Masked One attacked.
CHAPTER 23
Morginthax gazed at the plummeting dragons with concern. “I’ve slept for thousands of years. And now I’m to give my life for the Nine? So be it. An oath is an oath. But only to recover the Horn and the Scepter from Hel’s minions.
I wiped my face, and was fairly sure Dana was going to survive, after all. I pulled away from her. “As long as you don’t attack Shannon or Kiera, I’m happy.” I looked up at it. “And I’m very grateful. I couldn’t have wished for a dragon to aid us.”
The dragon smiled enchantingly, then shook her head in disgust, changed and grew with a dizzying speed, spread her wings, and nodded at me. “Go, then. Let’s go and spare your filthy friends.”
I went forward, and the dragon grasped me. “I’m ready, if you are,” I said and looked over to Dana. “Coming?”
Dana squared her shoulders and stood to watch the terrible battle. Shannon’s army had stopped the riders and the orcs of Ban. A ferocious battle was being fought just over the ridge, where hundreds and hundreds of riders tumbled from their lizard mounts. The orc army still tried to break the thickly-packed svartalfs, hacking down ferociously with huge axes, but slowly, their undisciplined ranks faltered as their losses mounted. Shannon’s army pushed, pushed. Shields and spears took turns to batter and savage as fifty thousand svartalfs marched on, killing, saving the surrounded regiments. Cyclones of fire were tearing the heart out of Ban’s army, and they fell back in places, gutted. Thousand, then more fell. Svartalf riders of Scardark were routing the last of the enemy riders, then orcs, and I saw how the embattled jotuns surged against the female guard of Ban in an orgy of blood.
The elves were surging over Markudin after the draugr. Thousands were already engaging Shannon’s ten thousand and the draugr that had been stopped from fleeing. The bridge was filled with the beautiful folk form Above, and their human allies, light spells bringing them ability to see.
The Masked One had to stop them.
They would rob him of the Throne.
Four dragons swooped at the elven army as it was crossing the bridge. Imagine a spiked ball made of magic, mayhem, claws, jaws, and terrible ill will, and see it tear through unsuspecting, gleeful but tiny enemies, and you can see the destruction in your mind. The dragons, a dark one, a white one, and one red, tore into the heart of Aldheim’s finest legions. The red dragon slammed itself onto the bridge itself, its tail throwing hundred elves to the abyss, its claws ripping to shreds a unit of Safiroon infantry, stout humans bearing halberds. Then it unleashed spells. Wind buffeted the bridge, then fire mixed to the wind, and for a moment, Vastness was light as if a dozen moons shone in the sky, and a thousand elven and human warriors crumbled, their proud standards thin flaming pillars. The other two dragons roared into the army beyond the bridge. They landed and killed a Safiroon general, but soon they were roaring with pain as ten thousand elves charged them with spears. They went into a battle frenzy. Spells of shredding winds and ice tore the heart out of the elven contingents around them. The dragons glowed with protection spells, and leashed more and more icy wind and fiery spells. I thought I saw Almheir screaming orders on our side of the bridge, and Shinna Safiroon in green armor calling for her maa’dark to slay the wyrms on the bridge. The white dragon with two tails, puffed out of sight as it plummeted against the ten thousand elves that had already crossed, and appeared in the midst of them, ripping apart some very high nobles, before going berserk in a frenzy of claws, teeth, tails and fire.
The other dragons, they headed for Shannon.
Dana hesitated. She got up and walked towards us. “I guess I owe her this much. We must get the Scepter.”
“Only Nött might stop this,” I told her. “And Kiera will be down there.”
“To her, I owe nothing,” she said viciously while stroking her throat. She looked up at me. My chest was a mass of pain and I felt blood flowing to my hips. “You are bleeding.”
I nodded. “Worry about it later, Dana. Much later. We need you.”
She nodded, and stepped closer. The dragon grasped her, and then, like a ship riding the most terrible wave back in Earth, our whole world changed into a breathtaking ride. The ground was left behind, and the dragon tore across the dark air of the Vastness. She was flapping her wings strongly, and below, suddenly not far, there was the huge battle that was still ongoing. I saw how Shannon’s army was overcoming King Ban himself. Riders overran the enemy king’s guards, and jotuns broke through at the same time. Ban fell on his back from his seat. He struggled, but was hacked by the swords of two mighty jotuns.
His twenty thousand remaining soldiers immediately laid down their weapons, and the remaining two kings turned to flee, only to fall to arrow and spell. They were Shannon’s then. And only then, did the army see what was taking place with Shannon.
The smoldering dragon, the Masked One, plummeted towards the Queen of the Dead, the lady of Scardark, hoping to grasp her title with its dying breath. He was flanked by his dragons. Shannon, she looked up. Her svartalf army stared at the beasts aghast, scattered, shooting arrows, thousands of arrows up at the beasts, making them roar with anger and annoyance. Spells, hundred or so reached out, and one, a gray worm lost its wing, plummeting in rage amidst a legion of jotuns, who slashed it to pieces, losing a score of theirs in the bloody process.
The rest tore into Shannon. Flaming pillars tore down at her, like a rainstorm of death. Fifty black-armored guards fell into brittle heaps of dust and a hundred gorgons burst into flames.
Shannon didn’t wait to fall.
The dagger aloft, she blinked out of sight, a dark cloud that escaped from a melting chariot of gold, and shot across thousands of her troops. The dragons landed where she had been standing. The chariot was a pool of molten gold, and the scaled beasts were turning their heads lithely around, seek
ing a hint of her, roaring at stinging arrows, which their spells mostly deflected.
Shannon stayed hidden.
Instead, a hundred armored jotuns and thousands of svartalfs attacked the beasts. Fire licked the ground around the army as they charged, and spears and arrows peppered the dragons. On the bridge, one of the dragons roared, as Shinna and a dozen Safiroon mages cast intense fire at it, and a burning dragon rolled dead into the chasm.
The Masked One turned, it’s one good eye seeking Shannon desperately. He was horribly burned, but still alive. He screamed, “Queen of the Rot! Come! It is time to see you honor the Dragon Pact!”
The chaos was complete. The dragons, frustrated, hurt by arrows and spells, attacked the enemy ferociously. The jotuns hacked at the scaled enemy, their swords and axes coming down, and one dragon, a red-tinged one, fell, ripping off jotun heads as it died.
The rest of the dragons breathed a conflagration of utter horror. The fires they breathed were so fierce, even jotuns fell, breathless. It went on for a long time, the flames spreading as the beasts breathed gleefully. Thousand died, more. The shocked svartalfs hesitated.
“What shall we do?” I asked the dragon.
“They’ll think I’m an enemy,” she answered. “In a way, I am. But you get ready. Your Shannon will fight soon. That’s the best time.”
She was right.
“There!” the Masked One shrieked, having spotted Shannon in the midst of the milling army.
The dragons turned and charged forward, making a slithering path towards Shannon and the corpses of the svartalfs. The dragons waded into a sea of swords and spears, killing hundreds as they made their way for Shannon. A king fell, smashed under a claw, a gorgon general was ripped apart between jaws. Shannon’s army rushed over the ridge, the riders first, shocked to see the massive elven army and the dragons tearing havoc at their rear. “Is the Queen dead?” roared one of the generals, sitting on a lizard. A lightning bolt from a dragon split him, and dozens of others in half, even through his magical guard.
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