A Gossamer Lens (The Legend of Vanx Malic Book 10)
Page 9
Scores of insects swarmed the ground around his friends. Worse, fae of all sorts surrounded them in the air. Zipping, finger-size sprites, and foot-tall fairies with purple-black wings and dark blackened eyes closed in. There was nothing Vanx could do but feel the centipede squeezing him in half.
Vanx lost his air, and the world started going black. He saw that Chelda and Moonsy weren’t going down without a fight, though.
That was good.
They deserved to die like the warriors they were. Unlike him, who, even now, slipped from consciousness, feeling cold bug parts sliding through his body.
Chelda sent a dog-sized roach flailing away from the overtaken group. Moonsy’s radiant spell cleared their immediate area for a few moments, but those the elf evaporated were replaced by creatures even more determined to do the spider queen’s bidding. The savants sent jagged, lime-green arcs that cooked anything they touched, but it didn’t look like it would be enough.
Vanx didn’t want to look down and see how close he was to being clipped, but he couldn’t help it. It was discouraging. Even if it let him go now, his innards might spill out the gashes in his sides.
There was a roar, but Vanx was on the brink of consciousness when it sounded. For whatever reason, the centipede jerked, and then relaxed, if only slightly. Vanx sucked in precious air. He felt the pain of his wounds, too, but his head began to clear.
When the midday sun was briefly eclipsed, and the saddled-buzzard hunkered flat against the ground, he felt a familiar fear course over him. Then he heard another roar, and the centipede flinched so hard Vanx thought he felt his legs fall away from his body.
Chapter
Twenty-Four
The witch is cold and evil,
her heart is black and hard.
Hair like snakes, and fangs for teeth,
and her claws are frozen shards.
– Frosted Soul
Before Vanx’s upper half was slung away from the centipede, he saw a flash of coral scales and heard Zeezle yelling at Moonsy or Chelda. He also saw Queen Spidera, still right there before him, gawking at the dragons scorching her subjects to char.
Other creatures answered the plea Vanx had made through the Hoar Witch’s crystal. All sorts of creatures still lived in this desolate place, and now they joined the battle. Vanx saw a big, purple-gray toad snatch a sprite from the air with his long, bright pink tongue. A small flock of blackbirds swooped and curved sharply through the air as they fed on a swarm of nasty little insects.
While Spidera was distracted by the damage the dragons caused, Vanx reached over and grabbed the skull. It was only an elf skull so he had no problem getting his hand around it. It was magicked to the evil bitch, though, and the shock that went through him when his palm closed over it sent him, or at least the upper half of him, flailing through the sky. Luckily blackness overtook him when he landed, for the last thing he wanted to see was that he’d been sheared in half.
When he opened his eyes, he felt the glaive’s familiar wash of healing magic coursing through him. He even felt he still had legs, but the way his sides and spine felt, he wasn’t sure if his friends had put his two halves together before healing him.
It turned out that wasn’t the case. It had only felt like he’d been torn in two. His internal injuries had been worse than he imagined, and the skull might have cooked him a little when he first palmed it. Now, Zeezle forced him to the ground to avoid a barrage of streaking dark magic sent by Spidera’s elves.
A tan and brown feathered hawk screeched as it swept by, chasing a fairy that was almost as big as it was.
“I thought you were dead?” Vanx said, trying to clear his head. He’d seen Zeezle smashed flat by the cyclops’s club, he knew he had.
“I teleported out from under that bastard’s thumper just in time.” Zeezle grinned. “You have it?”
Vanx didn’t think his friend had enough time to teleport away from the club’s impact, but if Cora and Avz were here, there was no doubt it was really Zeezle. It took Vanx a moment to realize the last part had been a question.
Vanx looked in his hand. An evil pull shot through his being. He had the skull, but it tried to control him. It might have managed to get a grip on another’s soul, but Vanx had fought the rushing, lustful draw of the dour magic contained in a dragon tear before. He’d won that battle, and he’d been infected with the Trigon daze and survived the Hoar Witch’s evil magic, too. He wasn’t so easily taken. He had lost so many people he cared about that nothing could overpower him, for what didn’t kill you, made you stronger, and he’d survived it all.
He heard himself growling at the skull and, even though he thought it funny that he sounded like Poops, he didn’t stop.
He felt the skull’s darkness, for that is what had infected these fae. The gem-seed’s power was natural and pure, but trapped inside the skull of some bitter elven king who’d lost his heart tree, that power had been corrupted. Inside the skull, the gem’s power was tainted with spite and malice and had infected the whole colony.
Vanx felt the pull of evil from it, but he also gained all sorts of unexpected knowledge. He now knew the skull had belonged to King Maackia Amur, who had ruled here for over four thousand years. He was Queen Spidera’s father, and her mother had been his mistress, or maybe his pet.
These things intrigued Vanx but, instead of letting his curiosity get the better of him, he smashed the skull against the rocks. He wasn’t surprised when the top half came off. There was a seam where it had been sawed and glued. Even though he expected to find it, he was overcome with relief when he saw the last gem-seed. The perfectly clear, diamond-like jewel, come to a wobbling stop before him.
“You brought Cora?” Vanx asked.
“And a few more savants.” Zeezle pointed to a dozen or more bald, robed Zythians who unleashed all sorts of spells on the malevolent fae.
To Vanx’s surprise, most were not trying to kill them. The savants wanted to study the poor buggers, and he almost wished death on them instead of eternal capture.
An ear-piercing scream filled the afternoon.
Queen Spidera was angry and, as she hastily walked on her long spider limbs over to her saddled buzzard and straddled it, she changed back into her natural form. A good number of the fae, and even more of the insects, followed her when she took to the sky and fled with the Tome of Arbor and the looking glass. Vanx started to panic, but decided he didn’t need them anymore. He knew where the last gem-seed needed to be quickened.
Those of her host that were left behind, dutifully fought to defend her retreat though. They fought until each one of them was captured by the savants or killed by the reptiles or the birds that lived on the fringe of the seemingly dead valley.
Avz and Cora, who had killed hundreds of fae, and scorched the area raw with their liquid lightning breath, were eager to be off.
Moonsy rode in front of Vanx, on Cora’s back. Zeezle sat in front of Chelda on Avz and after landing once, away from the dead Heart Tree, to situate themselves and their gear, they started toward the distant kingdom of Highwander, where the copse of Great Carpi Ultura grew so they could quicken the last gem-seed and be done with this quest.
Sadly, Vanx heard Gallarael’s voice singing his questing song in the back of his head, and he spent a good portion of their journey fighting the tears the memory brought on.
He found he missed his pup, too. As much as he loved riding on Cora’s back, it would be that much more enjoyable when he and Sir Poopsalot could do it together. Cora’s neck wasn’t as wide as Pyra’s had been, but her scales were warm, not scalding hot. Vanx had already devised a basket saddle and harness for Poops in his head. When the last gem-seed was quickened, making the saddle would be the first thing he did. He wanted to visit Xwarda anyway, to see if he could find the tower the old wizard spoke of. While he was there, he could get his materials.
Hopefully the old coot would be there, for Vanx had more than a question or two for him.
Ch
apter
Twenty-Five
I picked a special flower,
to make my Molly sing.
and right after she kissed me,
she said I want a ring.
– Parydon Cobbles
The storm they’d flown into hadn’t seemed nearly as bad as it did now. The wind was so strong it sent the dragons banking off course. The raindrops so fat and hard that they were probably leaving bruises as they pummeled them. Vanx reached behind him and pulled an oiled cloth from his bedroll. He wrapped it around he and Moonsy both. Now, just their faces poked out.
Vanx hadn’t seen Zeezle or Avz for some time, but he spoke with them in the ethereal, and knew they weren’t far. Zeezle wanted to try and teleport them to Highwander, but he’d never been there, and didn’t have a globe to visualize with, as he had before. He was still spell weary from bringing the two dragons and the extra savants to the dead Heart Tree, too. Vanx didn’t want him to risk it. Too many things could go wrong.
Vanx was excited, for he’d never visited the land of Ornspike’s ballad before. The old wizard’s tower was supposedly in Xwarda, the capital of the Kingdom of Highwander. They were going to a place in the mountains between Xwarda and a vast desert, though. Under those mountains was bedrock formed of pure wardstone, the most powerful substance known. Vanx was certain that, once the final tree was rooted in the magical ground there, the world would finish rebinding itself.
As if the thought of completing the task was all it took to turn the day around, they flew right out of the storm into the stark, late day sun. Below them, the sea was choppy, and as the dragons winged them toward Highwander, and the copse of identical trees, Vanx stowed the oiled cloth and tried to let the wind and sun dry his clothes.
By nightfall, they were dry, and thankfully the travelers met no more bad weather as they flew high above the clouds through the golden moonlit sky.
Morning came and went, and then the power of the sun evaporated any moisture that might have remained from the rain.
It was late in the evening when they first saw the coast of Westland and the islands to the south of the main landmass.
I want to see the Dragon’s Tooth, Vanx told Zeezle, Moonsy, and the dragons. It will make a good place to rest and feed. We have a whole continent to cross. It will be late on the morrow before we are even close.
I’d like to see it as well, Zeezle agreed.
“I didn’t think it was real,” Moonsy said over her shoulder. “I mean, it all seems so impossible, all the races coming together to defeat a horde of demons.” She turned even further. Vanx guessed, so that she could see his eyes when he answered.
“I am sure, my elven friend,” Vanx responded with what might have been a laugh, “they would think you and your Heart Tree back in Saint Elm’s Deep were just as extraordinary. Even the elves of this land would find you remarkable., They are more like Zythains, or maybe, well—” He stammered, remembering what the old wizard had said about him being a Phenzythian. “They are a cross between our races, I suppose. They are bound to a whole forest I’ve read, not a single tree.”
“We are dedicated to our whole forest, Vanx,” Moonsy corrected. “The Heart Tree forms the Nexus and fortifies everything around it. I can only imagine what rooting this Heart Tree and forming such a potent place in wardstone will do.”
The Dragon Tooth Spire was just as all the bard’s songs depicted. It curved slightly, like a fang, and it had a hole cored through it near the top, forming a perfect lair. To Vanx’s disappointment, it was occupied.
A middling-sized red dragon must have sensed the other wyrms. It leapt out of the hole with a roar, and then protectively circled its abode.
Cora and Avz gave off warning roars that also declared they had no intention of invading the red’s territory. It followed them until they were at the edge of the swampy area formed by the Leif Greyn river’s swollen mouth.
Vanx was glad when it turned and left them, for he’d rather camp here in the swampland than have the dragons discovered in the cattle and crop fields of Dakahn or Valleya.
They found a place where the land rose out of the water enough to set up a camp. The dragons left the group to go feed. The whole time they were gone, Vanx had visions of being stranded there, but Cora soon returned and found a place nearby to gnaw on the huge gator she’d caught.
The feeling of relief was doubled when Avz came down on the other side of the group and laid half-in, half-out of the water. Seeing the small fire Zeezle had built reflecting in all those scales on either side of them, gave Vanx the comfort he needed to find slumber.
It was a good thing, too, for the insecurity he sensed in himself was a problem. He was Vanx of Malic, and he would get past the recent losses and fill the holes in his heart. At least, he fell asleep thinking those things instead of dwelling on the loss of Pyra and Gal.
Chapter
Twenty-Six
On an old barrel keg,
in the shade I’ll be,
if Molly comes around,
a looking for me.
– Parydon Cobbles
Morning came far too soon.
“You’d never think that just sitting there riding on a dragon would be so tiring,” Moonsy grumbled.
“Yah.” Chelda snorted her agreement. “My thighs are sore. Avz is a bit smaller than Kelse was.”
The darker blue wyrm cocked its head to the side and gave Chelda a look. Chelda glared right back at the wyrm.
“You’d do well to live and die as Kelse did, Avz.” Chelda showed absolutely no fear of the dragon as she told the wyrm how it was. “Maybe you’ll grow tough enough to fill her skin, maybe you won’t.”
Avz brought his head up and looked at Cora. Vanx almost laughed at the blue dragon’s disbelief over being spoken to in such a way. Even Zeezle was extra courteous with him after.
They handled their personal business, each taking turns doing so behind the wyrms. Then they mounted and took to the air. Now, Vanx leaned to the right and Moonsy to the left when Cora took her momentum gathering strides.
Once the dragon was flying, Vanx rode the rush of excitement that filled him. Seeing that the expanse of marshy swamp extended behind them as far as the eye could see, and that the fang-shaped dragon’s lair was almost out of sight, Vanx said a quick thank you to the goddess. No matter how heavy his heart was, at that moment, he was glad to be alive.
While the dragons circled to gain altitude, Vanx picked out the main river channel. It ran along the far side of the marshlands and defined the edge of Dakahn.
O’Dakahn was one of the biggest harbor cities Vanx knew of, and so many songs and tales had originated there that he thought he might take an excursion before they went home.
They were so close to being done that he—
There was a bright flash and Vanx felt his teeth jar together as something came smashing down into Cora from above. He felt his skull crack and blackness swiftly overtook him.
“Noooo,” Chelda screamed, seeing the spider bitch and her buzzard come out of the sky and slam into Cora, beak first.
Moonsy was thrown from her place, and Vanx was covered in so much blood that Chelda could only imaging the buzzard’s beak had popped his skull.
Spidera blasted Moonsy as she fell. Chelda saw her lover’s body explode into a bright lavender mist, and Chelda’s heart lumped into her throat. Confusion and uncertainty filled her mind.
Moonsy was dead.
She wouldn’t be able to shrug this one off. The rage that filled her was a welcome distraction from the hollow that formed in her gut.
Cora fell, too, her back possibly broken, and at least one wing fouled. Now Vanx, limp and unconscious, tumbled away from his dragon.
Zeezle must have seen it all, too, for Avz darted into a dive after them. It happened so fast that Vanx was about to hit the ground before they even got close. Chelda gasped and heard herself say, “Yah,” when Vanx’s impact was turned into a feathery fall by Zeezle’s magic.
She barely managed to reattach her weapons before she collapsed into Zeezle’s back and sobbed.
Zeezle had managed to remember the spell that kept Vanx, who might already be dead, from crunching on the rocks. He’d seen Moonsy die, too, and though Chelda was undoubtedly devastated, it had been a quick painless end.
Keeping Cora from crashing was another problem. He cast the same spell he had on Vanx, but he wasn’t sure it was powerful enough, or that he was quick enough for it to have lessened her crash.
He knew he had to do something, because here came a plethora of angry fairies, sprites, and a few crow-riding, dark-eyed elves, too.
“I’m going to teleport you down to Vanx,” Zeezle said with as much authority as his voice could muster. “See if you can use the glaive on him.”
When she didn’t respond, he shrugged back against her. “Chel!”
“Send me!” she yelled back, making it clear she’d heard but didn’t want to speak.
Zeezle cast a protection over Chelda, and then made her appear on the ground near Vanx. Avz curved around to meet the coming buzzard and blasted a handful of the swarming fae as he did.
Zeezle barely had time to cast a protection over himself before the other fae were on him.
Their stick arrows couldn’t hurt Avz, they just bounced off his iron hard scales, but some of the dark eyed elves started casting.
Zeezle blasted back but, by himself, he knew he didn’t stand a chance, for here came the ancient Spidery Queen and her ugly buzzard. The lucky bitch pulled up just in time to avoid Avz’s attacking bite.