“The egg?”
“Probably. Using too much power must be dangerous. What if I’ve hurt it?” The worry in her eyes surprised Edmund. He had never thought about the love dragons have for their young—but of course she would be upset.
He caressed her folded wing. “Everything will be all right. Sit down for a moment. Let me check that there’s nothing else coming.” He peered around the corner but couldn’t see any other creatures from the Third Realm. “All clear. Can either of you walk?”
Elphus rubbed his chest with the palm of his hand and took a deep breath. “I seem to be okay. Nothing broken. I could use a little help though.” The realmist rolled over to his hands and knees and pushed off the ground to kneel.
Edmund grabbed his arm. “Ready? On three: one, two, three.” The king pulled while Elphus wobbled one foot under himself and then the other. Once standing, he sucked in a few quick breaths.
“Being this large is hard work.”
“I bet it is.” Edmund looked into his friend’s round face, not knowing what to say.
“I was married once—to the love of my life. I still miss her. But….” He sighed. “Food is a poor substitute.”
“I’m sorry.”
Elphus shrugged. “Now, let’s help the mother-to-be.”
Arcese didn’t like the sympathetic look on their faces—people feeling sorry for a dragon? That wouldn’t do. The cramps had stopped, so she stood, towering over the men once more. “I’m fine. I’ll just have to watch how much power I draw.” For no apparent reason the men could see, Arcese stared into space.
“What’s wrong? Is it another cramp?” Edmund watched her for signs of pain.
“No, nothing like that. It’s Aramonius. The gormons are getting the upper claw up there. They need our help.”
Suppressing his desire to run, Edmund assisted the limping Elphus while also keeping an eye on Arcese. The pregnant dragon’s wings drooped, and she kept a hand on her belly. What little hair Elphus had stood up every which way, and there was a bruise around his neck. Edmund felt his sword arm throb from its recent workout, and when he looked down, he saw blood on his shirt. He observed his little group making their shambling way to toward the conflict and wondered how in the Third Realm they were supposed to save Bayerlon, let alone Talia.
***
Gormon fire and flaming arrows vied for dominance in Bayerlon’s night sky. Aramonius surveyed the disaster of broken bodies and ghastly, winged gormons. “I think we just killed the wrong gormon. I’ll be back.” The dragon channeled the weak Talian energy and extended his wings. With a few powerful downward beats of his wings and a leap, he entered the sky.
Klazich saw Arimonious take off, so he changed course—he could deal with the rest of the Talian cowards later. How could this have happened? His loyal brother, Embrax, slain by realm-stealing nothings. How dare they? Without Embrax’s genius, the gormons would never have made it to Talia. I’m going to slaughter every last one of you—starting with this usurping child of Drakon.
The gormon leader focused on his target. Encouraged by the cries of terror and death filtering up from the city, he flattened his neck and head, streamlining his body, and accelerated. Ten feet from his target, he spewed flames and shot up, away from the dragon’s rejoinder. Kwaad had fashioned a shield for Klazich from Second-Realm energy. It had left Klazich’s head unprotected so he could attack with his best weapon.
Quickly changing direction, Aramonius dodged the gormon’s flames. Not wanting to be attacked from above, the dragon climbed quickly and banked around to meet the monster head on. He realized, after his flames rolled harmlessly over the gormon, that the gormon’s body must be shielded—he would have to aim for the repulsive head.
As the two battled in the sky, Edmund and Arcese arrived on the wall, Elphus limping and Pernus trailing after. “It’s not safe up here, my king. We need to go below.”
“I need to see what’s going on. Aramonius needs our help.”
Edmund looked over the wall, into the cobbled streets. Groups of soldiers fought gormons. Blood ran down gutters designed to carry rain or washing-up water; half-eaten bodies lay scattered amongst the wreckage of burning buildings, and on the corner of one street, a gormon picked up an arm from the ground and dined.
Before he vomited, he returned his attention to the sky. The gormon and the red dragon darted left, right, up and around, fire belching from enraged maws.
“Can you help him, Elphus? I don’t want to use the power if I don’t have to.”
“Of course, Arcese. I’ll replicate the gormon shield.” The realmist opened the corridor to the Second Realm. It felt like going home, as his awareness rode the outgoing tide. He admired the innumerable, bright soul-stars and imagined what the Second Realm would look like if the gormons had their way. It would be black and empty, the gormons’ dark symbols the only remaining inhabitants—adding nothing of beauty or worth—a gloomy realm indeed.
Like basking in an unseen sun, he soaked up the warm and invigorating energy and returned to his body. The realmist opened his eyes and mumbled four words before releasing the power. I’ve given you a shield. You still need to protect your face.
Aramonius’s deep voice sounded in his mind. Thank you.
Drakon’s two creations spun, dipped and dove beneath the gloomy clouds, each trying to reach the other’s face with flames or claws. Twice they collided, spearing toward the ground before parting and regaining control. Those on the ground, not engaged in battle, watched, enthralled.
“Drakon’s balls! What’s that?” Edmund pointed to the south. A massive form glided in their direction. Even though they couldn’t tell exactly what it was, Edmund’s skin puckered, and the hairs on the back of his neck rose. “I have a bad feeling about this.”
“You have good instincts.” Arcese covered her belly with her hand. “It’s Kwaad.”
Edmund squeezed his fingers around his sword hilt. “You mean . . . my brother and his wife? He turned into that?”
As Kwaad flew closer, they could hear chanting. “Kwaad! Kwaad! Kwaad!” The gormons had stopped mid-chew, mid-kill, and mid-destruction, to gaze upon their new king and self-proclaimed god.
It took Klazich a bit longer to join his master, but he pulled away from Aramonius with one last gush of fire and flew to Kwaad’s side.
The dragon spied the king and Arcese and circled above them, watchful. Knowing Edmund’s brother would likely come for the king, he called his fellow dragons to his side.
From three corners of Bayerlon they came, soaring like red embers in the corona of torchlight haze above the city. Their wheeling presence gave hope to the Talians.
Kwaad reached the northern wall. Amid the chanting gormons, the soldiers shook themselves out of their horror. Some took the opportunity to attack their enemy, others to run—either to try to escape or to see if their loved ones had survived.
The walls almost shook when Kwaad bellowed. Across the city, hands covered ears. Those who were near the edge of losing their control to fear gave way, collapsing, crying and babbling. The trio of hissing voices snaked through alleyways and lanes and penetrated closed doors and windows before blasting across the city walls like a foul wind from the depths of the Third Realm. “I am here to destroy your former king. Edmund, come out to play. You remember me, don’t you? I’m here to take back what’s mine.”
Kwaad was almost upon them.
“We need to leave now.” Arcese stepped in front of the king, the air charged with static. “I can feel he’s drawn a lot of power.” Her voice lowered as she said, “He will kill you.”
“I can’t leave my city to that.” Edmund looked at the chaos below.
“We don’t have time to argue.” Elphus started drawing power, filling each cell with as much as it could hold. He spoke between clenched teeth. “Get him out. I won’t give my life in vain. Arcese, you and the dragons must take Pernus, Edmund, and anyone else you can save, and go.”
Evil was merely he
artbeats away. Elphus spoke quickly. “Anithes overjallia indom elenis sanquesta. Construtus ephem alperdis absolve.”
Everyone close to the realmist could feel the pressure building. Pernus’s straight hair pointed to the sky, and he felt the need to scratch his skin.
The dragons drew on Talian power, readying for takeoff.
Kwaad was so close that Edmund could see the sheen of light reflected off his oily hide.
Elphus threw his arms in the air, wincing as pain lanced through his chest. The power poured from his hands, and an invisible barrier formed between the group and Kwaad. Flying too fast to stop, Kwaad collided with it, shattering the construct. Stunned for a few seconds, Kwaad plunged toward the ground, recovering twenty feet above the wall. Kwaad swooped in an arc and climbed again, its red eyes glowing with so much anger that its face took on a macabre rosy luster.
Elphus’s face was gray, his heart racing. Sweat poured from his rapidly heating body. “I can’t keep holding this power. I have enough left for one more shield. Take them now!”
Aramonius called out, “Edmund, Pernus, turn your backs to us.” Then he, Arcese and the other dragons, leapt from the wall, wings outstretched. They flew away from Bayerlon, gathering altitude, then quickly banked back around.
Realizing he would never see Elphus again, Edmund grabbed his shoulder. “Thank you. I will never forget what you’ve done. I’m sorry I couldn’t do more.”
“My struggle is over. I’ve done what I vowed to do when I became a realmist. Tonight, I will see my love again.” When he smiled, the tension left his face, peace caressing a gentle hand across his cheek. Edmund would always remember him that way.
An ancient war cry burst from Kwaad as he hurtled toward Edmund. Leon could see his brother atop the wall. He was going to rip him apart, limb by limb. His sibling was about to lose his kingdom—even the dragons had abandoned him. Soon Edmund’s people would be under Leon’s control. He couldn’t wait to change back into his Talian form and have his way with the young girls of the castle—something his brother had always denied him. He wondered what it would be like to eat them afterward and felt the high priest’s approval through their bond. Kwaad’s mouth watered.
Elphus had to time it just right, as he wasn’t sure how long the construct would last. As the dragons approached from the south and Kwaad from the north, Elphus drew even more power. Kwaad was two wing beats from reaching them. Now one. The realmist threw his arms to the sky. Kwaad collided with the clear wall. Stunned again, it dropped twenty feet before regaining movement. The power shattered into tiny shards that dissipated into nothing.
Arcese swooped down and grabbed Pernus, while Aramonius picked up Edmund. Two red dragons plucked unsuspecting soldiers from the wall, and the other dragon swooped to take Alaine, as she was perfectly placed for a quick grab and run.
Kwaad had recovered. It flew after Aramonius, close enough to snap at his tail.
Elphus swayed and gripped the edge of the fortifications to steady himself. Everything looked blurry. He blinked and focused on the chase going on above. Opening his mind wide to the corridor, he let down all his defenses and extracted a flood of power. His temperature rose, and he fell to his knees. His veins burned, and he screamed. Quickly mouthing his final incantation, he reached one arm out, opened his hand and released a massive fireball before collapsing face-first onto the ground. His body lay smoking, but he was already gone.
The city walls and buildings shook—the passing of one of The Circle causing a minor earthquake. Men tried not to fall where they stood, many calling out, wondering if their world was ending. The sound reverberating over Bayerlon didn’t help to negate their assumption.
***
The dragons raced away from the city. The air buffeted Edmund as he was dragged through the sky. Hanging from a dragon’s claws was not the most comfortable, nor dignified, position to find oneself in. Edmund winced as the dragon’s talons cut into his flesh and the wind set his eyes to watering. He could turn his head enough to see the gormon’s black wing right behind him, and he wondered if there was anything he could do to help the dragon go faster.
The heat from Kwaad’s fire warmed the king’s back as the gormon gained on them and attacked. Edmund turned his head again and saw Kwaad’s massive snout, its protruding teeth within biting distance of the dragon’s tail. Go faster, he willed the dragon. Kwaad opened its maw once again and jerked its head down to try to grab Aramonius’s tail. And that’s when the fireball hit.
Although the gormon had a protective shield around its body, the power Elphus had poured into the projectile was enough to knock Kwaad sixty feet away and stun him for a few seconds.
It was sufficient that the dragons put some distance between them and their attacker, and Kwaad was not stupid enough to chase them out of sight of the other gormons—it knew one of the dragons could use Second-Realm power, and five dragons against one gormon would put the odds in the dragons’ favour.
Kwaad recovered and watched as Drakon’s favored children spirited Edmund away. Leon’s anger was like poison, killing any resemblance to being human that was left within. Damn that bloody realmist. Edmund’s escaped!
High Priest Zuk hissed into Leon’s mind. Keep the end goal in mind, Talian. You will have your brother soon enough. Think of this as a practice run.
Easy for you to say, Priest.
Watch how you address me. Remember: it is by my grace that you are here, within Kwaad. I can pick another if you are disagreeable.
Tusklar intervened. Don’t worry, my love. The priest is right. We can go back to Bayerlon now and feed. We will have plenty of time to kill your brother later. You know the anticipation is almost as good as the kill.
Leon growled, not convinced. Take me back to Bayerlon. Tonight we shall feast.
CHAPTER 17
High Chancellor Calinsar stepped out from behind the gormon, his five-pointed-star belt buckle of office reflecting the candlelight. “I suggest you rethink attacking us.” He nodded for them to turn around. Two more gormons stood in the hallway behind them.
“How could we be so stupid?” Agmunsten looked at his companions, wanting to blame them but knowing he was just as much at fault. “Oh, he speaks Veresian.”
“Of course I speak Veresian. All the high chancellors must learn the language of those who seek to oppress us and steal our fertile lands.” Elbows tucked into his sides, arms bent, he gripped the lapels of his midnight-blue jacket. “It was lucky my friends, here, warned me.” He smiled at the gormons.
“How can you call them friends? They’re here to destroy Talia.” Astra pushed in front of Agmunsten and placed her hands on her hips.
“Ah. And would you be that lass who went missing all those years ago? You must be Astra. You know leaving Zamahl is punishable by death.”
“And what makes you think the gormons have your best interests at heart? Do they even have hearts?” Astra turned to Zim.
“I think so, but they don’t get used much.” The dragon laughed.
“Enough!” The gormon who was next to the high chancellor approached Astra. He spoke to the high chancellor’s guards. “Take her to the holding cell. She’ll be executed within a week. That gives us time to alert surrounding settlements, so they can come and watch—see the example she sets.”
The guards stepped forward.
“Don’t you dare touch her.” Agmunsten pushed Astra behind him and narrowed his eyes at the guards, daring them to come closer.
The gormon hissed at the guards and showed them his claws. “If I have to do this myself, you’ll be joining her.”
The taller guard, whose broad shoulders and paunch stretched the fabric of his black shirt with silver detailing on the breast—which read HC—took a tentative step and poked Agmunsten lightly with his spear.
Agmunsten touched the tip of the spear with his index finger. Letting some of the power trickle through his finger, it ran along the spear. The timber shaft turned to sawdust that showered the po
lished-timber floors, the spearhead clattering when it landed. The guard’s mouth dropped open.
The head realmist couldn’t feel the telltale tingle of anyone else working with the power. He looked at the gormon to see his reaction. The beast twisted its mouth then bared its teeth but didn’t move closer. “It seems we have the advantage. We need to talk, High Chancellor, but we can’t do it with the enemy here.”
“The enemy?” The gormon snarled. “This is our world, our lands, that your kind stole, and you dare call us the enemy?”
Zim, who had been watching the gormons at their back, spoke without turning around. “Maybe you were once wronged by your god, but you have become evil, twisted creatures. You enslaved my people. Did we deserve to pay for your god’s mistakes?”
“You are the reason for our banishment to the Third Realm. We will never forget that. The gormons won’t rest until every last dragon is dead or enslaved again.”
Agmunsten, frustrated at the turn the conversation took, put his hands up. “We’re not here to discuss the past. We’re here to discuss the future. Talia needs Zamahl’s help, High Chancellor. If the gormons take Vellonia, they will systematically enslave all the peoples of Talia, breeding them for food. Is that what you want for your people?”
The high chancellor stepped closer, but was careful to leave the gormon in between himself and the realmists. “Churex has promised me they will leave Zamahl alone. He has the full authority of Kwaad, their leader.”
“You would take the word of this . . . thing? Not to mention you’d send millions of people to a horrific death. The Zamahl I left wouldn’t have done that.” Astra scowled.
“You were young when you left, my dear. You don’t know what the leaders of that time would have done. Did you know that there is a whirlpool just off the coast? It has already swallowed an island and is growing larger every day. Zamahl is next. The only way to stop it is to help the rightful, original owners of this world. The gormons have our full support, and killing me, or Churex and his friends, will make no difference. The assembly is in full agreement.
Realm Of Blood And Fire (Book 3) Page 17
