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Legends of the Dragonrealm, Vol. II

Page 104

by Richard A. Knaak


  When at last he could find no more handholds or footing, Morgis peered down again, trying to make out what lay below. Outside, he could see a little better, enough to at least let him judge the gap. The fall could still kill or maim him, but if he managed to position himself right, he might survive with only a few bruised bones.

  Not satisfied, he scanned the darkness for a better landing place. Just beyond the rocky area where the Aramite had fallen, Morgis noted what looked like a softer, shrub-covered region. If he pushed himself hard, then tightened for impact, it might save him from any shattered limbs.

  Might.

  Little choice remained. The fact that neither Leonin nor Kalena had come in search of him worried Morgis. The sooner he rescued himself, the sooner he could do what he could for them.

  “I ssswear I will make you pay for thisss, keeper!” the drake hissed. If not for D’Kairn’s spell, he would not have had to suffer this indignity.

  Bracing himself, Morgis pushed off the stone wall.

  He fell much faster than he had expected, the black ground rushing up to greet him. Barely had the drake folded himself into survival position when he collided.

  Despite his best efforts, Morgis could not keep a cry from escaping him. Every nerve, every bone, vibrated with such intensity that he was certain that he had broken all of the latter.

  Then a shrieking pain in his right shoulder and a savage cracking sound left him bereft of any conscious thought. Morgis rolled and rolled, unable to stop himself. He struck rocks, dead shrubs, and rotting trees. Each renewed the agony.

  He came to rest at the bottom of a gully, where he lay for several moments. His head pounded mercilessly and when Morgis tried to move the one shoulder, he had to bite down to avoid shouting out.

  Only with strenuous effort was he at last able to attempt to rise and even then the drake had to shut his eyes and grimace as he moved. He put his good hand down in order to brace himself, then managed to reach a sitting position.

  At that point, he saw the skeletons.

  The darkness could not hide what they were, nor the fact that there were many of them. They lay scattered, in different stages of decay, but most were old, picked clean long ago by the carrion crows.

  But amongst them lay two large forms not yet bereft of their flesh if already missing the skin that covered them.

  Kalena’s ill-fated partners.

  The Gnor was recognizable by his girth, if nothing else. The man by his general shape and skull. The sight of them, even in the dimness of night, was nearly enough to make the drake, who had seen many horrid things, throw up in disgust. Not a stitch of clothes remained on the human and not an inch of skin had been left on either. From head to toe, everything had been perfectly removed, almost like a peeled fruit.

  Curiously, they did not stink. Morgis dared inhale harder, but only caught a slight hint of some musky scent. Only magic could have managed such a feat. Apparently D’Kairn did not like his sensibilities offended while he performed his monstrous spells.

  And that thought brought him back around to Kalena and Leonin.

  Hissing quietly, Morgis looked around for a blade. He could not find his own, but by the Aramite’s body he located a dagger. Less than he had hoped but more than he had expected.

  Pausing to gaze at the sprawled form, Morgis pondered the raider’s manic shout. The desperate tone in the man’s voice puzzled him. The drake had a reputation that preceded him—As D’Kairn had revealed—but in a land that produced such creatures as the Gnor, certainly Morgis was no more a monster than the Aramites’ own hideous god.

  Then again, the wolf raiders had never been known for their respect for any nonhuman race.

  Testing his shoulder again, Morgis determined that it was not actually broken, but rather dislocated. With effort, he could clutch things or even raise it some, but not much more. Given time, he could remedy the situation, but for now he would have to get along with only the left limb. Even with one arm, Morgis was a match for any Aramite save the keeper and if he could catch D’Kairn by surprise…

  Slowly he wended his way around the ancient structure. Foliage snagged him and his footing often gave way. More than one quiet curse escaped Morgis as his frustration mounted. Each moment of delay meant the possibility of his friends falling back into the keeper diabolical hands.

  As he came around the front of the building, Morgis noted the lack of torchlight outside. Had the wolf raiders returned to the keep? If so, it made the drake’s task that much harder. Out in the dark, the advantage became his.

  Clutching the dagger, he approached the entrance. Lights flickered from inside, but whether they were from the Aramites’ torches or the fire already set by Leonin, Morgis could not say.

  In answer to his question, two armored figures suddenly stepped out, each brandishing a torch and sword. Although he could not see their faces, he could sense the anxiety in their movements.

  “Nothing…” growled one with the voice of Captain D’Falc. “Back inside! Quick!”

  That even the veteran officer acted nervous intrigued Morgis. Gaze still upon the entrance, the drake shifted to the right, trying to catch some glimpse of the interior.

  Instead, he found another body.

  Awrak’s.

  The bird man stared sightlessly up at the black heavens, his beak seemingly open in protest. His throat had been slashed open and another deep, dark ravine had been dug in his chest, dried blood still matting the feathers there. From what Morgis could make out of the angle of the body, the Syrryn had been tossed aside like an old, abused rag doll after his use to D’Kairn had been at an end.

  Sharp teeth bared in growing anger, Morgis searched for the Syrryn’s weapon, but could not find it. Closing Awrak’s eyes, Morgis continued his slow but steady advance. He got within a few yards of the entrance, only to see that one nervous Aramite guarded it cautiously from within. Even if Morgis managed to slay the sentry, it would alert the rest of those inside.

  From within he heard voices.

  Keeper D’Kairn was in no pleasant frame of mind. “…be certain that I will take the cost of everything out on you and your friends before I finally grant you the relief of death!”

  There was a moment of silence… then a harsh slap. Morgis had to restrain himself from rushing in. He would do no one any good committing to a suicidal charge.

  “We should just kill her and be done with it, my lord,” Captain D’Falc barked.

  The drake hissed. At the very least, they had Kalena, whose only crimes had been first to warn Morgis and his comrades of the danger near the keep and then to try to rescue the drake and Leonin from D’Kairn.

  He had to go in. Surveying the crumbling building, Morgis estimated his chances of reaching one of the open windows above. Unlike Kalena’s people, his were not known for their ability to climb while in their mortal forms. He had been fortunate once…

  But even as he considered his other options, a slight rustling from his left alerted the drake as to company. Gripping the dagger, he listened as the newcomer slipped closer.

  At the last moment, Morgis spun about—

  “It’s me!” gasped Leonin. “Watch yourself with that thing!”

  Morgis lowered the dagger. “I thought you were a prisssoner! How did you escape?”

  Leonin peered at the entrance before answering the question. “I was just grabbin’ a torch when I heard them approaching. Slipped into one of the back rooms, hoping for a window, but while I was feelin’ along the wall, I stumbled into a hidden passage! This place is honeycombed with ’em, drake! Anyway, it finally led down the hill to the northeast of this place. Been circling ever since.”

  “I found Awrak a short distance from here, Leonin. Hisss throat and chessst had been cut deep.”

  “We knew that was likely what’d happened,” remarked the man. Yet, his tone hinted of barely-concealed anger.

  “They have Kalena a prisssoner, Leonin.”

  “Well, if she’s still alive
, it’s because they want us runnin’ in after her, isn’t it? Of course, we’ll come, but not the way they want, right?”

  “As you sssay. Tell me, isss this passage still unknown to them? Were you forced to leave it open?”

  The bearded fighter thought for a moment. “No, I shut behind me. They shouldn’t be able to find it. We going to sneak in on them from behind?”

  “Firssst tell me whether or not you think you can enter through the other end.”

  Not only did Leonin think it possible to do so, but he gave Morgis an estimate on how long it would take to reach the room. The drake did some calculations of his own, then said, “The timing must be just right. I will count to myssself until I think you are ready.”

  “And just what are you goin’ to do, then?”

  “It is what we both must do, Leonin. When I believe that you are in position, I will come from the front, asss they expect. I will make certain that they focus on me while you ssslip in and grab Kalena.”

  His partner snorted. “You’re goin’ to charge right in, draw them away, and let me be able to save the girl? You’d have to fall in among them to do that. The odds of you gettin’ out—”

  “My concern is sssaving her, Leonin. You understand me?”

  There was a momentary silence. “Yeah, I understand you just right, Morgis.”

  “I am not foolhardy,” the drake continued, failing to mention his nearly-useless limb. “Once Kalena is safe, I will abandon the struggle.”

  “Sure you will.”

  Morgis did have a plan, though, albeit a risky one. He was skilled with the dagger, able to toss it with accuracy that even Leonin could not match. All Morgis needed was a few seconds of surprise, enough time to manage one focused throw.

  A throw that would end with the dagger deep in D’Kairn’s unprotected throat.

  Not only would that prevent any magical attack by the keeper, but it would also likely put an end to the spell D’Kairn had cast upon the drake. Then Morgis would not only be able to use his own magic, he would also be able to transform—assuming his friends had escaped already—within the old ruin.

  That last alone would put an end to the rest of the wolf raiders.

  He told none of this to Leonin, simply assuring the human once more that he would flee the moment they had escaped. Leonin did not entirely believe him, but with one final nod, the human darted off.

  The time Morgis estimated it would take Leonin to reach his goal seemed to stretch to an eternity. In that time, the Aramites grew fairly silent, the only evidence of their wariness a sentry peering outside once. The quiet both encouraged and unnerved the drake; it might have meant that D’Kairn’s men were growing weary, off guard, but it also might have indicated that the keeper had grown tired of waiting and had decided to use his lone prisoner to increase his vampiric powers.

  At last it was time to act. Morgis crept up to the side of the keep, wondering why D’Kairn had left it so unguarded. The Aramites appeared confined strictly to the chamber inside, not the most competent strategy. What did they have in mind?

  Morgis hefted the dagger. He would find out in a moment. If he could barrel into the lone guard, then throw, he felt certain that he would succeed. At the very least, his appearance at the entrance would make most of the raiders, especially the sorcerer and his captain, look only in that direction.

  Knowing Leonin as he did, that would be all the time the human would need.

  He took a deep breath—then rushed around the corner and inside the building.

  But instead of one guard, there were suddenly two, one of them Captain D’Falc. Both charged Morgis, forcing a decision.

  Hissing in frustration, the drake threw the dagger.

  He had lost no sense of aim despite the abrupt alteration of his plans. The blade caught the more deadly D’Falc—who had purposely let the guard take the forefront—just under the chin, burying itself up to the hilt.

  The Aramite captain tumbled forward, already dead. His sword dropped from his limp hand and skidded toward Morgis.

  The sentry ran as fast as he could, preventing the drake from seizing the lost weapon. Two more Aramites hurried to reach him and in the back Morgis could see D’Kairn stroking the stone on the necklace as he watched the battle. Why he had not used it yet, Morgis could not say, but every extra second gave the drake some hope.

  Curiously, besides the captain and the three who faced him, Morgis did not see the rest of the raiders. There should have been more…

  He had no more time to think about it, for then the first foe reached him. Unarmed, Morgis dodged the initial swing, then the second. He could not see past his opponents or D’Kairn, leaving him unable to guess as to whether Leonin had managed to sneak inside. With three blades already facing him, Morgis chose to step back to the entrance. The longer he could draw their attention, the better.

  The Aramites seemed perfectly willing to let him do just that. They kept their blades pointed at his chest, but did not lunge. Each matched him step for step. It was almost as if they waited for some signal—

  Only too late did Morgis realize his mistake.

  To the right and left of him, the walls suddenly reached out with arms of stone. Figures pulled out from the walls, snaring him on each side.

  The images of rock and mortar dissipated, revealing to the drake that those who now held him were a pair of Aramites disguised by illusion. He quickly glanced D’Kairn’s way and saw the keeper’s mocking expression. Now Morgis understood why the sorcerer had seemingly done nothing.

  He had already laid his trap.

  VI

  A TWIST OF his injured arm made Morgis cry out. The Aramite holding it twisted harder, clearly relishing the reaction.

  “An absurd maneuver, dragon,” commented the keeper, striding toward his captive. “And very predictable. You accomplished only your own destruction.”

  But as D’Kairn neared him, Morgis at last caught a glimpse behind the sorcerer and saw that Leonin had more than done his part. Gone was Kalena, a few cut ropes the only trace of her… and lying near where she had been prisoner, the slumped, still corpse of a guard. All done without the other Aramites’ knowledge.

  He allowed himself a mocking smile in turn. “I accomplished more than you imagine, human.”

  D’Kairn frowned, then quickly looked over his shoulder. The composure vanished, replaced by a barely-checked animalistic fury.

  “You!” he snapped at two of the soldiers holding blades on the drake. “The back rooms! Quickly!”

  “Your incompetence amazesss me, D’Kairn,” Morgis continued, trying to keep his captor off guard. The longer he did so, the better the chances of his friends. “And you are the hope of these jackalsss? You will ressstore their devilish empire?”

  For his remarks he was rewarded with more painful twisting. If only he had managed to slay the sorcerer…

  D’Kairn came up to face him. Never had Morgis looked so close into the eyes of a human and read such evil.

  “You call us jackals, devils. You are no better than us, dragon. You are a beast parading as a man!” He glanced down at the dead captain. “You will regret every one of the deaths you caused. First you will be tortured to within an inch of your miserable life in every manner prescribed and every manner we can devise… and then, when you have worn your voice hoarse pleading for mercy… I shall skin you alive the way you did my men. Your blood will be the foundation of my power and the losses here will be recouped a thousand times over—”

  But Morgis was no longer listening to the other’s tirade. “What did you sssay?”

  Before D’Kairn could answer, one of the men he had sent to hunt for Kalena and Leonin rushed back. “My lord! There’s a passage open in one of the walls!”

  “So that was how you worked your plan…” The keeper pointed at all but one guard. “Take torches! Bring back their heads as proof to me!”

  As the Aramites obeyed his order, Morgis struggled to be heard. “You fool! D’Kairn,
you’ll be sssending them to their deathsss!”

  “Against your two friends? Hardly! Your trickery is at an end!”

  “There’sss something elssse out there! The thing that ssskinned your men—”

  D’Kairn touched the stone, sending pain through the drake. “You and your friends are the ones who skinned my men.”

  “Go out back! You’ll find ssscores of bonesss and even some bodiesss! I thought you resssponsible, but now I sssee I was wrong!”

  “Bind his mouth.” The keeper turned from his prisoner.

  Weakened, Morgis could not keep the lone guard from obeying the order. Muzzled, arms tightly tied, he could only watch and wait.

  Despite his previous display of confidence, Keeper D’Kairn paced the floor in clear impatience as the seconds passed. Next to Morgis, the single guard fidgeted, hand constantly stroking the hilt of his sword. Morgis was aware of the fact that if he made one false move, he risked being slain simply due to the Aramite’s anxiety.

  As for the drake, he also worried about his friends and not because of their pursuers. He should have seen it sooner. D’Kairn had said that he had circled behind Morgis and the others, following instead of being followed. Therefore, the keeper had never had the opportunity to perform his insidious spellwork here. In addition, when D’Kairn had slain Awrak and used the Syrryn’s blood to increase his power, he had left the body otherwise intact.

  It had not been skinned.

  And the more Morgis thought of the scant details of Kalena’s story, the more he realized that what had stalked her and her partners had been something else entirely, something that had long made its home in the keep and knew all the hidden passages.

  Something that had found more than a dozen armed and armored soldiers only a tempting target.

  Before, the drake had thought that once Leonin had Kalena, it would be simple for them to lose the wolf raiders. Now, though, they might be running right into the waiting talons of the keep’s foul denizen.

  With the spell on him, Morgis was all but helpless. D’Kairn had the only potential weapon against whatever ghoulish creature lurked in the ruins, but the sorcerer was too focused on revenge against mortal foes.

 

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