“Maybe if he breaks the wall, Theia will awaken.”
“This would all be much easier if you could take dragon form,” Khalid said.
The Dragon ran around the wall, leaving its safety for another clump of ruins. Kingu did not see them flee. They were safe for the moment.
Then, Farouk suddenly appeared beside them.
“What is this place?” he asked, looking around the giant cavern. Then, he saw the giant stalking among the ruins. “What is that?”
“That is Kingu,” the Dragon said. “The Firstborn of Theia.”
Farouk reached out, placing his hand on the Dragon’s forehead. The Dragon remained expressionless, glancing at Khalid.
“Theia…” Farouk repeated. “The Mother spirit!”
“You know the story?” the Dragon asked.
Farouk nodded. “Yes,” he said. “And much more. What do you need with her.”
“I don’t need her,” the Dragon replied. “I thought I did, but instead I need the power of that giant.”
“What are you planning to do?”
“With his power, I can heal myself completely and travel to the center of the Earth in dragon form. There, I can protect and shield the Great Mother by severing the link The Lifegiver has with her.”
Farouk nodded as the realization slowly came to his mind. “Ah, yes,” he said. “That would leave him vulnerable. What can I do to help?”
Khalid gripped Farouk’s arm. “You can start by healing my broken rib,” he said. “Our magic doesn’t seem to work well in this cavern. Yours might.”
Farouk set down his staff, placing his hands on Khalid’s side. As he worked, he spoke. “Look up at the ceiling,” he said. “And the walls. What do you see?”
“They are kind of sparkly,” Khalid said, prompting a grin from the Druid.
“Interesting,” the Dragon said. “We are inside a giant geode. But one that has been leaching minerals from the surrounding mantle.”
“Yes,” Farouk replied. “That is what is blocking your magic. Some of it may work, but some it won’t. I can help with that. I will give you some of mine, and that of my friends.”
He removed his hands from Khalid’s side. The priest rubbed his wound, smiling. “That feels better,” he said.
“Kingu!” a woman’s voice echoed through the cavern.
The men looked for the source, seeing an elaborately dressed woman standing on a ledge at Kingu’s eye level. They watched as the giant slowly approached her.
“Igraina!” the Dragon hissed.
“The Prophet!” Farouk said. “What is she doing here?”
“If The Lifegiver knows of Kingu, then he must know of Theia as well,” Khalid said.
“Perhaps not,” the Dragon replied. “She is still asleep.”
“We must keep it that way,” Farouk said. “I need her.”
“For what?” the Dragon asked.
“The Lifegiver has destroyed many worlds in the past. On the last world he occupied, there was one survivor; the king of a race called the Alvar. They have been on this world before, in the northlands, and on the island. His daughter was here thousands of years ago. She was killed trying to find this spirit to bring back to her world. Now that The Lifegiver is here, her world can finally be healed.”
“Will that work?” the Dragon asked. “Another Mother Spirit?”
“Allora thought so.”
“Allora…” the Dragon said. “Why does that name sound familiar?”
“She was the banshee,” Farouk said.
The Dragon sighed. “I knew there was a reason I couldn’t destroy her. I let her remain here despite her violence. I knew she wasn’t pure evil. I just didn’t know why. Thank you for explaining, my friend.”
“She has been returned to reality, along with a large number of her people. They are now on Eirenoch ready to join the battle. I owe them this Mother spirit.”
“You have my blessing, then. Take her and heal their world. It is the least we can all do for their help.”
“Thank you,” Farouk replied. “Now, distract the giant. I will deal with the Prophet.”
Igraina felt the awesome power of Kingu’s presence as he slowly stumbled toward her perch. This was true power; true, primordial evil.
She was exhilarated.
“Come to me, my lord,” she whispered.
Her heart pounded as Kingu leaned in closer, his face coming within mere yards of her own. He was fantastic; built of ancient stone, with a heart of blackness. He was tormented, alone, and filled with a rage that rivalled the Prophet’s own.
She loved him.
“I will not destroy you,” she said, smiling. “I am yours.”
“Igraina!” Farouk said from behind her.
The Prophet spun around, shocked at the Druid’s sudden appearance. Around him, six strange, white, and impossibly tall beings stood. Her eyes widened as she realized what they were.
“Traitor!” she hissed. “I escaped you once! I will do so again!”
She turned to Kingu, who was still transfixed upon her.
“Take me, my king!” she called raising her arms to welcome his embrace.
Farouk raised his staff in the air, blasting Kingu with a bolt of shimmering silver energy. The giant reeled in pain, shielding its face from the blast. He stumbled back, blinded, his deafening roars of pain shaking the cavern. The Prophet looked on in horror, chanting a spell to cast at Farouk in revenge.
The Defilers rushed forward, leaping into air to wrap themselves around the giant Firstborn as Farouk released another bolt at the Prophet.
“No!” she screamed.
Silver cords wrapped themselves around her as she struggled. Farouk chanted, striding toward her menacingly. He would not let her escape again.
“Your sins will not go unforgiven,” he hissed. “You have plagued this world for too long. Your Hell will be eternal. I will cast you into the Abyss!”
Igraina fell to the ground, still squirming. As Farouk stared down at her, he smiled.
“To the sea with you!”
He waved his staff into the air. Chunks of rock and metal formed themselves around her, assembling themselves into an impenetrable sarcophagus. Outside the stone, metal melded itself over the formation in a smooth, gleaming cylinder.
“Goodbye, Prophet,” Farouk said, casting her upward into the chamber’s ceiling.
The cylinder crashed through the crystal, crushing upward through the layers of Earth until it reached the sea bed. Water began to rush into the cavern and Farouk knew that it would soon be flooded.
He looked down at the massive pool of energy that lay below. Theia was beginning to awaken. He must gather her spirit before it was too late.
“Dragon!” he called down.
Dagda looked up, still fixated on the strange creatures that had attached themselves to Kingu’s body.
Farouk waved his staff, casting a beam of green magic toward him. The Dragon raised his arms to receive the magic, relishing in its life giving power.
“Khalid!” Farouk shouted. “Come to me!”
Khalid rushed to the edge of the cavern, below the ledge. He avoided the giant’s stomping feet, carefully dodging the rocks and sea water that fell from the ceiling.
Farouk cast a spell in Khalid’s direction, pulling the priest up the ledge to safety.
“The cavern will flood soon,” he said. “You are coming back with me. Eirenoch needs you.”
“I am ready,” Khalid said.
Farouk then turned his attention to Kingu, directing another beam of impact force in his direction. His shins were shattered, and the giant went crashing to the ground. The Defilers separated from him, forming a circle around the Dragon as he knelt.
“Now!” Farouk shouted.
The Defilers summoned their power, spreading their tentacles and drawing the life force out of Kingu as he struggled to crush them. He grew smaller as his energy was drained, screaming in fury and pain as his body crumbled to pieces. Hi
s life force swirled around the Defilers as they imparted it to the Dragon.
Slowly, Dagda stood, his body transforming to his natural state. He grew giant in size, his arms spreading out and lengthening as a membrane stretched between them. His neck lengthened and curled back as spikes protruded from his skin. His scales, once dull and grey, appeared a gleaming black as they protruded from his skin. With a roar, the Dragon announced its return.
“Dragon…” Khalid whispered. “Welcome back.”
Dagda was now his true self. He looked up at Farouk, nodding his massive head in thanks. He was now more powerful than ever, filled with the life energy of the helpless Kingu.
“Theia is linked to Gaia through the pool!” Farouk said. “You may reach the center of the Earth that way.”
The Dragon raised his head to their level, coming in closer to speak.
“Thank you, Farouk,” he said. “You have done so much to protect the world. You have my respect. And you, Khalid, your service has been unfaltering and faithful. You have protected my children and served the kingdom well.”
Khalid bowed, tears beginning to form in his eyes. “All I am now is because of you and your mercy.”
“No,” the Dragon said. “The Khalid I see now has always been there. And you will always be a servant of that which is good. When I am gone, you will serve the king. He is now the Dragon. Goodbye, my friends.”
“Goodbye, my lord,” Khalid said, sadly. “My friend.”
The Dragon nodded to Farouk, and then turned toward the orange pool. Taking one look back, he flew into the air, diving straight into the surface. The energy boiled and splashed with his impact, enveloping the Dragon in its divine embrace.
Khalid wept.
Farouk lifted Kingu from the cavern floor with his magic. He was no longer giant in size, but only slightly larger than a man. Farouk cast him against the wall, forcing the stone to form around him, imprisoning him once more. He would remain there forever, dead but dreaming, until the Universe saw fit to end his suffering.
“A sad fate,” Khalid said. “Why not just destroy him.”
“I cannot,” Farouk replied. “It is against the laws of the Universe for a mortal to kill the divine.”
“Let us return to Eirenoch,” Khalid said, sadly. “I cannot bear to be here any longer.”
Farouk called the Defilers back to his gem. Their essence swirled around it, slowly disappearing into its green depths.
“My friends,” Farouk spoke to them. “Receive this Mother spirit into your realm. Protect and comfort her until I set her free.”
Farouk lowered his staff, pointing it toward the pool. Softly, he spoke to Theia, whose image ascended from the depths of her prison to gaze upward in wonder. Her form was humanoid, with odd features that were strangely beautiful. Her eyes were gentle and filled with the sorrow of isolation. But that soon faded as she realized that Farouk was here to set her free.
“Come with me, Theia, great spirit,” the Druid spoke. “You deserve a world of your own, not this prison. My friends need you to bring life back to their home, and they will honor you and love you as their own Mother.”
Farouk… she spoke, her voice an ethereal whisper. You have freed me. Take me home. I have been here for so long.
Khalid felt her sorrow, and it heightened the sadness he felt when the Dragon had disappeared.
“You will have Alvheim, and it will be yours.”
Thank you.
Theia rose up to meet Farouk, her energy streaming into his gem eagerly. It glowed more brightly as it became concentrated, casting a shimmering orange glow throughout the cavern. Its reflection in the rising water rippled across the ceiling and walls like fire. Soon, the light faded and her entire spirit was now safely inside the gem, ready to be released into her new home.
Khalid and Farouk could feel her sense of peace.
“It is done,” Farouk said. “There is no reason to remain here any longer”
Khalid nodded. “Let us return home.”
Chapter Twenty Four
“Ships sighted!” called the lookout above. Eamon rushed to the bow with the knights in tow. He reached the railing and looked out over the sea, scanning the horizon for the enemy. He saw Jadhav’s vessel quickly slip under the waves. In the distance, the line of Jindala ships appeared. There were a dozen small warships, and one larger vessel made of iron that dominated the horizon.
“Gads, that’s a big ship,” Angen exclaimed.
“It looks like the same ship Jadhav described,” Eamon replied. “The one that carried the Enkhatar.”
Eamon heard the distant shouts of Hamal in the next ship. The man was waving to get his attention.
“Imperial battleship!” Hamal shouted. “Built by slaves of Anwar!”
Eamon glared at the vessel, seeing its huge black form come into view. It was a terrifying sight; spiked, armed with cannons, and devoid of any sails. It was a fortress at sea.
“How will we sink that?” Wrothgaar wondered.
Azim grunted. “If anyone could sink it, Jadhav could,” he said. “Besides, we have the whales on our side, I suppose. Although I haven’t seen them.
“They may be avoiding the battle for their own safety,” Angen said. “Or maybe they are confident that we don’t need their help.”
“Man the ballistae!” Eamon called. “Archers, take your places!”
Orders were shouted from the other ships, and Eamon saw their archers lining the railings, and their gunners manning the giant arced bows of the ballistae. In the distance, the huge warship began to turn in the water, bringing its length into view.
“They’re preparing to fire!” Angen shouted.
The smaller ships were sailing forward at a faster speed, closing the gap between them and the allied fleet. Eamon could see Hamal and Ulrich both looking in his direction. Eamon nodded to them both, signaling them to let loose.
The sound of cannons and the twang of hundreds of bows filled the air. Eamon followed the arc of the cannon balls as they sailed toward their targets. The flaming arrows soared in a cloud, trailing smoke behind them as they found their marks. Two of the Jindala ships were struck, the cannon balls smashing into their hulls and setting their decks aflame. The arrows that followed caught their sails, and the two ships turned to escape.
They did not make it far.
Jadhav’s vessel broke through the surface, clipping the side of one ship with its deadly blades. The fleeing ship was torn in two. Men aboard all of the allied ships cheered as it slipped beneath the waves. Jadhav’s vessel turned toward the other ship, its blades cutting through the water like a giant, mutant shark. They slammed into the other ship’s hull, cracking it open with a splintering crash.
“Two down,” Angen said. “Ten plus one to go.”
“Eleven, then?” Wrothgaar said, smiling.
Angen pursed his lips. “Fine, then. Eleven.”
The sound of cannons roared in the distance. The giant black vessel had fired its many cannons; giant cannons that fired missiles the size of boulders. The allies watched in horror as the huge projectiles sailed through the air, barreling toward them like deadly meteors—only to stop short and splash into the water several yards away. The men aboard the ships broke into laughter.
“They’re too heavy to reach us!” Brynn said.
Eamon stood higher on the railing, directing the other ships to pick up speed. They would meet the other ships head on and blend in with them. The giant ship would be hesitant to fire if they were among its allies.
Or so he hoped.
“Full speed!” he shouted. “Fire at will!”
Azim knocked an arrow and sent it flying. Brynn, Daryth, and Brianna did the same. Though their arrows disappeared with the rest, they knew every one of them counted. They would hit something.
“Wrothgaar!” Eamon shouted. “Fire the ballista at one of the ships and pull us in.”
Wrothgaar strapped on his axe and took up the huge weapon. He attached a tow lin
e to the bolt as the deck hands loaded it, and turned the crank to pull it back. Carefully, he looked down the sights, judging the distance and angle of arc. When the targeted ship was in his sights, he let loose the bolt.
The missile sailed slowly through the air in a high arc, bashing through the hull of the targeted ship with a loud crash.
“Ha!” Angen shouted, rushing to the Northman’s side to reel the enemy ship in. “Good shot mate!”
“Prepare to board!” Eamon shouted.
Hamal and Ulrich had done the same. Each of their gunners had caught an enemy ship and was towing it closer. Soon, the battle would be fought hand to hand, and the men would all get a taste of glory.
As the two ships drifted closer together, archers on both sides began firing. The deck hands lined the railing with shields, protecting their king and the bowman that fired back. Arrows filled the air, and the knights ducked and rolled away as they struck the wood of the decks.
“Cannons!” Eamon shouted.
Below deck, the cannons fired in unison. The side of the enemy ship was blasted to pieces above the water line, and their own cannons were now useless. There was no one left to man them.
“Archers, cover us!” Eamon shouted, drawing the Serpent’s Tongue. “For Eirenoch!”
The crew shouted their war cries, leaping to the railing of the other ship. Though the enemies fought to drive them off or chop them away, the archers of Eirenoch kept them clear so that the warriors could board.
Eamon leaped onto the deck with his knights. The enemies scattered, taking defensive positions as the black armored Knights of the Dragon came to deliver their doom. Angen and Wrothgaar immediately charged, barreling through them fearlessly and brutally. Eamon searched the deck for the captain, finding him cowering behind his men. The king charged them, appearing as a Dragon as his armor spread over him.
He slashed at the guards, killing two of them instantly. The others attempted to flank him, but were cut down by Brynn and Daryth’s arrows. Eamon growled in fury at the captain, who drew his sword in a futile attempt to defend himself. The king charged, striking with a blinding slash that cut the captain in two. The rest of the enemies, seeing their captain defeated so easily, either jumped ship or stood frozen as they were cut down.
Into Oblivion (Book 4) Page 24
