Offspring (The Sword of the Dragon)

by Appleton, Scott

  A swath of flames ignited from the blade as the enormous serpent’s head rushed upon him. The serpent’s white underbelly blackened as the flames struck, but the creature remained unfazed.

  Its head burrowed into the ground under his feet, ripping it out from under him, throwing him yards away as the head came up through the soil. The forked, purplish tongue lashed at him, roping his legs together as he fell.

  Before he could react, the serpent tossed him like a toy. It whipped him around, smashed him into the ground. He tensed his arms, swung the sword at the monster’s tongue. But the purplish thing unwrapped itself from his legs and he sprawled on the ground.

  The serpent’s tongue returned into its mouth. Sucking in its cheeks, the serpent parted its lips just enough to spit a dark wad at his face.

  Ilfedo held his blade in the venom’s path. The black liquid fizzled harmlessly against the blade.

  The enormous tail snaked toward him from behind. He dropped flat on the ground. The hard tip of the serpent’s tail stabbed the air where he had been.

  Thrusting his blade upward, he stabbed into the serpent’s tail. Blue blood spurted from the wound. Ilfedo immediately sent flames shooting from the sword, burning into the flesh exposed beneath the scales.

  A scream escaped the Serpent King. The creature recoiled from Ilfedo, its white eyes wide open. Its blade-fin altered from black to dark red.

  “Thy skill surprises me, little warrior.” The serpent hissed. “Thy manner is reminiscent of the ancient human kings, and the weapon thou bearest is no ordinary sword.”

  The serpent’s tongue slipped from its mouth, wetting its lips. “Perhaps thou wilt prove a worthy challenge for me. Perhaps”—its eyes glinted with anticipation—“I will bury thee in a bed of coral beneath the sea instead of feasting upon thee along with the rest of thy people.”

  “That is—not—going—to—happen.” Ilfedo dodged the serpent’s swinging tail, jumped onto its back and drove his blade up to its hilt in the monster’s body.

  As blood flowed from the new wound, he grinned. Life was in the blood. His mind merged with the sword’s powers, latching on to the life force of the Serpent King, drawing it into the sword. The weapon radiated white energy, burning deeper into the creature’s body.

  The serpent king screamed rage and fear. It slithered toward the sea as fast as it could move. Holding on to the sword with all his strength, Ilfedo concentrated on stealing the creature’s life blood.

  He glanced behind him. Several people ran to the sisters’ aid, raising swords. Among them were Ombre, Honer, and Ganning. He only wished that someone could have come to his aid.

  Quickly the others receded into the distance. The gargantuan Sea Serpent splashed into the sea, pulling him with it under the cold waves.

  Ombre raised his eyebrows as he stood still and watched his friend ride the scaly serpent monster into the Sea of Serpents. The creature’s seemingly unending length cut into the waves, immersing Ilfedo. He’d always thought Ilfedo was a bit on the reckless side—but that seemed a little carried away.

  “What is he doing?” Honer’s question came out as an angry yell, and his brow furrowed. “He must be mad!” The sword in his hand dripped blue blood from its blade.

  Beside him, Ganning limped toward the sisters battling the remaining Sea Serpents. He didn’t say a word, only ran.

  Ombre shook his head as he took a final look at the sea into which Ilfedo had disappeared, then started running toward the nearby battle. Ilfedo was beyond his help but these women were not. He overtook Ganning and passed him, making for one of the dozen remaining serpents sneaking around to attack Caritha from behind.

  The serpents swung their tails at the sisters. They opened their mouths wide to expose their fangs and attempted to stab each of the young women. The sisters evaded the attacks, and the creatures’ fangs sank into the ground instead.

  Ombre vaulted the bodies of several lifeless serpents before reaching his intended target. The Sea Serpent must have heard his approach. It snapped its head around to face him, forked tongue tasting the air between its fangs.

  Taking it head-on, he whaled on it with his blade. The metal first bruised the serpent’s snout and then broke through its scales, splitting its head apart. As it fell, he leapt another fallen serpent’s body, taking position next to Caritha.

  The sister looked at him, acknowledged him with a sober nod. Compared with her sisters, she had thinner eyebrows and longer lashes. Blue blood ran in rivulets down her purple dress. But her dark eyes shifted back to her blood-soaked blade as she brought it around, stepping forward to thrust it into a serpent’s wedge-shaped head.

  With a gesture, she summoned her sisters to her other side. Rose’el growled as she slit another serpent’s throat, came to stand with the others. In unison they lowered their blades, closing their eyes.

  Energy shot from the handles, up the blades, joining at the tips. A bolt of blue light streamed from the blades. Ripping through the air with a crack, the light struck three more serpents, burned through their bodies, leaving smoking holes. The serpents closed their white eyes and slumped to the earth.

  Ombre looked at them, raising his eyebrows again. First Ilfedo rode a monster into the sea. Now the sisters threw deadly energy from their blades—what he and anyone else in the Hemmed Land would term magic. There was more to these beautiful women than met the eye.

  As Ganning and Honer rushed a serpent to his right, the woods seemed to blossom with lines of men. First the rest of their hunting party joined in, then swarms of townsmen armed with whatever tool or weapon they’d been able to find. The people yelled, running forward with eager faces.

  The few Sea Serpents that still lived now turned tail, too late.

  The people cut them apart with knives and swords, stabbed them with spears and shovels, and pierced them with pitchforks. The battle was soon over.

  Everyone gathered around the five sisters, their dark hair flaming red in the afternoon light and their swords glowing rusty-orange.

  The weary farmers and townsfolk cheered, screaming out, begging to know who the sisters were. But the sisters ignored the questions and ran toward the sea. The townspeople hushed into stillness, standing and watching.

  “Wait!” Ombre ran after them alone. He caught up with them as they reached the white sand, their feet leaving clear imprints. Grabbing Caritha by the arm, he jerked her to a halt.

  “Sir, let go of me.” Her eyes burned back at his.

  The other sisters stopped, staring back at her.

  “Okay, first of all,” he stated matter of factly. “Don’t call me ‘sir.’ My name is Ombre. Second of all, what in Subterran has gotten into your head?

  “If you’re thinking of doing what I think you are—”

  “I am.” She tugged at his arm, pulling from his grasp. “Now let me go.”

  He held her tighter. “Yeah right!” He forced a laugh. “And what do you think Ilfedo would say if he found I let you go?

  “There’s nothing you can do underwater. And if Ilfedo regains his senses, he will come back before he drowns. But I am not going to let you throw your lives away.” He nodded his head at the other sisters, still looking into Caritha’s eyes. “They follow you. That is admirable. But this—what you plan to do—is foolishness.”

  She looked at his arm. “Please, my Lord Ombre, let go of me.”

  Tightening his grip on her arm, he waited for her to return his gaze. When finally her dark eyes met his, she bit her lip. “I will gladly do so, my Lady,” he said, “if and only if you give me your word that you will stay on dry ground.”

  She hesitated, glanced at the rolling sea. “We cannot let anything happen to him. We promised to protect him.”

  “And I am here to protect you.” He sighed. “If there was anything that could be done, then I would be the first to go, believe me.” He looked at the Sea of Serpents, the water that had swallowed his friend. “Ilfedo is on his own for now. All we can do is pray for hi
s safe return.”

  Her dark eyes scanned his face, “Then I give you my word—we will stay.”

  “Thank you,” he said in a voice too low for anyone else to hear.

  She averted her eyes from his gaze and shifted her feet. “Please, let go of me.”

  Still holding onto the sword of the dragon, Ilfedo felt the slippery body under him losing energy as his blade leeched off its blood. The instant the monster pulled him under the waves, his head slapped against them as if striking a hammer. The cold Ilfedo could endure, but his head smacking the waves, he could not.

  So hard was the blow that the world around him blurred and his conscious mind sank into blackness. He could feel the cold water filling his lungs, the saltiness of it covering his tongue.

  Was he going to drown here in the sea with only his adversary privy to his death? Was this the end?

  Ilfedo awoke with a green light glaring at him from high above. His chest felt heavy as he rolled onto his side to ease his aching back muscles from the rigidity of the flat stones on which he lay.

  He might as well have had a sandbag weighing on his chest, and his body no longer glowed. Thus he deduced his armor was not on him. He could also feel that the sword was no longer in his hand. His fingers touched a moist and blubbery substance covering the right side of his chest.

  Blinking to clear his vision, he focused on a tubule connected to his chest. Long and narrow, it compressed and expanded with the regularity of a heart beat.

  His vision sharpened. He stood to his feet, or rather was pulled up by the tubule. Its end released its hold, popping off, sloshing liquids all over his chest. It retracted several feet over his head. He followed the movement and spotted a curious being towering above him.

  It balanced on long, round legs that bent backward like a chicken’s rather than bending forward like a human’s. It slapped its frog feet on the circular stones and leaned over him. Its bulbous body was transparent and resembled a jellyfish’s hood. But the upper half of its body melded with the chest, arms, and head of a man.

  Its angled ears tapered to sharp points. The muscles along its jawbone twitched, strengthening its handsome face. A green light shining from high overhead made its eyes glimmer like smooth pearls. Not a single hair graced its head.

  Crossing its arms over its chest, the being bowed its bald head. Its eyes seemed to roll back into its head and the large, white shells that padded its shoulders swayed forward as the tubule retracted into the being’s side.

  “Sevat,” it said through the gill slits covering its mouth. “Sevat eb Crysallis!” Spreading its arms wide, it clumsily spun, raising its pearl eyes to peer at the half-shell energy dome that held back the open sea surrounding it.

  For the first time, Ilfedo took notice of the tableland on which he stood and the metal arch rising like a giant drafting compass from opposite sides of the circular floor of stones. The legs of the compass dropped over the edge of the round tableland, but from their junction a couple hundred feet above him, a green star burned blinding bright.

  Shielding his eyes with his hand, he traced four arcs of green energy from the star to sheer cliffs rising into the darkness far above.

  A sliver of light glowed in the darkness. It bent and stretched like a river into the distance. Turning, he watched the river of light as it vanished in the dark distance. It was as if a slice had been carved out of the sky. But it was a sky unfamiliar to him.

  Ilfedo’s eyes alighted on the ruins of a city rising from the bed of the sea. The buildings looked like grain silos, some larger than others, some low and others exceedingly high. The green light touched the ruins with faint fingertips, illuminating the seaweed filling its deserted streets.

  He blinked again to be sure he was seeing things the way they actually were. This place was under the sea … at the bottom of it. That river of light must be the light of day—far above him. Somehow he must have fallen through a rift in the ocean floor.

  How impossible it seemed. The energy from the star formed an enormous bubble around the tableland. The ocean currents washed against it, and it shimmered, holding them back.

  “Trispal sevat?” the being spoke again. It let its arms swing at its sides.

  “Sorry.” Ilfedo gazed into the creature’s pearl eyes. When it shuffled its flat feet and waggled its head at him, he breathed out deep. “I don’t think we speak the same language.”

  Shuffling its feet, the being spread its arms wide.

  Ilfedo stepped back, and his foot landed on metal. Looking down, he saw his sword. Flooded with relief, he picked it up. The living fire sprang from the blade, braided up his arms and covered his body, in a moment transforming him into a warrior garbed in armor of white light.

  The being rising before him did not so much as twitch a muscle in response. It regarded him with its pearl eyes, arms still spread.

  With his mind focused on finding a way back to the surface of the sea, Ilfedo hardly noticed that the edges of the tableland were filling with members of the tall being’s race. They were swimming through the depths, penetrating the green energy barrier, climbing onto the flat circle of stone rising from the midst of the city ruins.

  They had him closed in on all sides.

  “Stay back.”

  “Poonie,” the first being said through its gills, gently gesturing at its companions and then crossing its arms over its chest.

  Ilfedo lowered his sword and pointed cautiously at the being. “Poonie … is that what you call yourselves?”

  The being shuffled forward, holding out its hand. “Alartis!”

  Bowing, Ilfedo shook hands with the Poonie. Its pearl eyes dropped gold tears.

  “I do hope those are tears of relief.” He released the Poonie’s hand and gazed around at the other beings standing in silence.

  Spreading their arms wide and moving forward on their ungainly legs, their frog-like feet slapping against the stones, their bulbous bodies dripping sea water from their recent swim, the Poonie said in unison: “Sebat eb Crysallis!”

  Sebat? Was that their word for hello? He watched the congregation fix their pearl eyes on the green star hovering above the junction of the compass.

  A hand touched his shoulder lightly. He jumped, spun around. But it was only the first Poonie, leaning over him.

  It pointed at the city around the tableland, spread its arms wide. “Crysallis!”

  “This city?” Ilfedo longed to break the language barrier and understand, but he thought he understood at least one thing. “Crysallis … it’s the name of this place … this city. Your city?”

  But the pearl eyes revealed nothing. Gold tears fell from the Poonie’s eyes, filling the cracks between the stones on the tableland. Gazing around at the rest of the circular floor, Ilfedo caught his breath, seeing but hardly believing his eyes.

  Gold tears flooded the cracks between the stones, falling from the pearl eyes of every Poonie present. The gold ran toward the center of the tableland, collecting around Ilfedo’s feet. He felt the tears raise him off of the floor. First his head leveled with the Poonie’s eyes, then he rose above them and faster and faster, higher and higher, gold tears surrounding him until he passed into the blinding brilliance of the green star.

  The ocean fell upon him, roaring through a gap forming in the shield of energy that had kept it at bay. The sound of weeping filled his ears and he looked down to find the ocean crashing over the Poonie, whose gold tears continued to flow.

  He pointed the blade given to him by the dragon, aiming for the ocean. Surely the powers in his sword could save these poor beings. But the star rose through the sea, carrying him with it, and he felt the surface of the Sea of Serpents break around him as he shot into the air, water pouring from his glowing armor.

  Around him the green star vanished. Such was the force with which the star threw him that he almost flew through the air, over the water and toward the distant shore.

  Before he splashed back into the water, he spotted the mons
trous form of the Sea Serpent king, slicing through the waves, returning to land. His trajectory landed him with perfect balance on the creature’s massive head.

  With all his might he drove the sword of the dragon into the serpent’s brain, spewing fire from the blade, cooking the creature from the inside out.

  The serpent screamed a horrible sound that sent shockwaves through the water for a dozen yards around its head. It breached the water’s surface within a hundred feet of the shore. Ilfedo saw lines of people building rank upon rank on the dry ground.

  Ombre was standing closest to the water, his sword drawn, his face taut. Beside him the five sisters drew their swords and charged into the waves, soaking their purple dresses. A sea breeze wrapped their hair around their heads, wild, free.

  Struggling to its last breath, the enormous creature shook Ilfedo off of its head. Blue blood dyed the sea.

  Ilfedo stood in the shallow water, aimed his blade for the Sea Serpent’s neck, and threw it like a spear. The weapon lodged in the targeted spot; the armor of light vanished from Ilfedo’s body as soon as the sword left his hand; the monster screamed again.

  It spat venom at the sisters. They ducked the flying poison, came within arm’s reach of the creature’s body, and sank their blades through its scales.

  Taking advantage of the creature’s divided attention, Ilfedo sloshed through the water. Grabbing hold of the hilt of his sword as it remained stuck in the serpent’s neck, he waited for the living fire to garb him. Drawing with all his strength and summoning the powers in the sword, he ripped the blade up the serpent’s gullet.

  A shower of blue blood rained on him. The serpent’s scream was cut short. Its house-sized head bombed into the sea.

  Ilfedo held up his blade, and the water stormed past him without so much as touching him. When the sea calmed, he walked ashore. The five sisters stood there, sober despite the victory.