Kenn grinned as he fell to one knee. “I am but your servant, Master.”
“Very well.” The wizard rushed forward and seized Kenn’s head in his slithering hands.
“No!” Hamford called out, knowing the price that his brother would pay; the price that he himself had paid, but it was too late.
Kenn screamed as magical energies invaded his body. Pain shot from his head down through every nerve of his body. It was over quickly. By the time the echoes of his scream faded in the curving stairwell, the wizard stepped back.
“You are marked, Kenn Dollie,” the wizard snickered. “You are mine.” He turned his attention back to the door.
Kenn was suddenly filled with self loathing as if every tissue in his body had dredged through filth. He bent over and retched, though nothing came out. He rested his forehead on the cold wet stone for a moment. The feeling quickly faded.
Whatever the wizard had done, it had taken most of the energy out of him. He felt different. Kenn reached inside of his shirt and felt his shoulder where the demon had cut him the night before, but the cut was gone. He was healed.
“I am sorry brother . . .” Hamford moaned.
Kenn got to his feet and looked at Hamford, who actually had tears in his eyes. Kenn didn't understand why. Deep inside himself he could feel the mark that the wizard had spoken of, a kernel of power. Kenn smiled at his brother. Hamford’s gaze dropped to the floor in response.
“Now we can continue,” Ewzad Vriil pronounced. He waved a finger at the door and with a click, it opened. “This is going to be so interesting, don’t you think?”
An awful stench permeated the air that flowed through the door into the stairwell. It reeked of death and something hard to place. Something . . . monstrous.
Both brothers covered their noses. It didn’t seem to bother the wizard though. Ewzad Vriil breathed in deeply and whistled as he entered the doorway.
Just past the door was a short hallway with a wooden door on either side. There were no torches from this point on. The light came from glowing orbs mounted on the walls every few feet.
The short hall opened into a large chamber whose floors and walls were covered with the same green substance as in the stairwell. The chamber was empty but for two thick stone pillars rising in the center of the room, between them was a single stone desk that looked as if it had grown up out of the floor. Piles of bound leather books spilled across the surface.
Several of the books lay open and Kenn could see copious amounts of notes taken in messy handwriting. Ewzad noticed his interest and stopped for a moment, an eager grin plastered on his face.
“Wondering what this room is for? Yes-yes, of course you are.” He stood by the desk and opened his arms out wide, his squirming fingers making nightmarish shadows on the floor around him.
“This, my servants, is where I create! Yes, I have created masterworks here. Oh, such beautiful-beautiful creatures, ‘my babies’ I call them. And though there has been much-much too much trial and error,” He eyed the piles of books on the desk. “My greatest achievements are just on the other side of this room. Come!”
Kenn looked up at the ceiling and saw thick chains threaded through iron rings leading from the two doorways at the beginning of the chamber to disappear into the walls just before the long hallway at the end.
Ewzad entered a hallway lined with iron doors that were fitted with sliding slots so that a jailer could see in or so that food could be passed through. The smells leaching from these cells combined to form the stench that flavored the air. As they passed each door, Kenn could hear eerie sounds issuing from within. He shuddered to think of what might lie behind them.
At the end of the hall was one final door and Ewzad Vriil stopped in front of it, grinning madly. He bobbed on his toes, clapping his hands in excitement as he turned to the brothers.
“This, my servants, this is my favorite creation! Oh, oh, but I am so excited to show her off for you!” His giggle was all the more eerie for its childishness. He reached for the slot on the door that was about eye level, but stopped before sliding it open. “You may want to stand back.”
The wizard slowly slid the slot open and waited a moment before peeping in. “My darling, Talon! Ooh, sweet precious, wake up so that our visitors may see you.” He turned back to them. “Dear Hamford, is this your demon?”
Hamford gulped and slowly peered in. There was a single dim glowing orb mounted on the wall inside and the darkness was barely pierced by the light. Huddled in the corner with its back facing him was what at first glance appeared to be a bald-headed feminine figure. Its skin gleamed a light green color in the light and it took a while for him to realize that it was covered in scales. A tail moved in the darkness. It seemed to be eating something.
It paused and slowly turned to look at him.
Kenn jumped as, with a shout of horror, Hamford leapt back from the door just as something crashed into it from the inside. Kenn gasped as he saw a mouthful of large, razor sharp teeth snap at the slot. Droplets of blood sprayed through the slot from whatever it had been eating.
Hamford stumbled backward and fell, narrowly avoiding the long thin arm that shot forth from the opening. A hand tipped with wicked claws slashed through the air, before gouging tiny furrows into the iron on the outside of the door with a horrible screeching noise.
“That's it! That's the demon!” Hamford shouted. He turned to the wizard with fear in his eyes. “How did you capture it?”
“You fool!” Ewzad snapped. “You don't recognize her? This is the raptoid I found in the desert a year ago.” He began to pace, ignoring the hissing creature in the cell behind him. “I knew it! From the moment you described how it cut you, I knew it. Sometimes my darling Talon cuts her prey for days before she kills them. Not only does it weaken them, but it adds to their terror!”
The brothers looked at each other nervously. It was obvious that they still didn’t understand.
“Oh, my. Must I explain everything? The so-called demon that has been following you is obviously the raptoid that got away! Hee, hee! And you have brought it to me!” He clapped his hands together again.
“You actually want that beast brought here?” Kenn asked.
“Beast?” The wizard giggled. “No, you don’t understand. Even I didn’t understand a year ago when we went to the desert in search of the raptoids. No, I had hoped that the healing properties and reflexes of the dragon blood in such a creature would make them wonderful guards. But what I found when I brought this beautiful being home . . . Ohh she was much better than what I expected. What I created that day in the desert was not the perfect guard, but the perfect assassin.”
“Assassin?”
“Yes! At first, I tested her out on a troop of goblins. She crept through the trees and killed two dozen of them in a single night. When my beautiful creation came back to me, she didn’t have a single scratch! And now, now that I have perfected her, I cannot be escaped! I cannot be crossed! Whenever a prisoner runs away, or a guard deserts, I simply send her out after them.” The wizard giggled again.
“She has never failed me. Have you dear?” He reached out and clasped the monster’s hand, which was still swiping at the air in front of the iron door. Ewzad’s fingers entwined with hers and to the brother’s astonishment, she calmed down. “See, I have nothing to fear from her. She is but an extension of my will. With her I reach out and kill anyone who dares to go against me. This is why I call her my Talon. And now, soon, I shall have another one just like her. Ooh, this will be fun!”
Kenn gulped. Suddenly he realized that becoming the wizard’s servant wasn’t such a good idea.
“Oh, Kenn. I know what you are thinking. You are having second thoughts aren’t you?”
“N-no, Master-I,” Ken started, but the wizard ignored his stammering.
“Your brother already knows this, but you are still new. When I told you that you were mine, dear Kenn I meant it. No, there is no escape for you. For anyone with th
ose thoughts, there is now only my Talon.” He smiled at Kenn as he caressed Talon’s scaled arm. “But I don’t need to tell you that, do I? You are loyal now aren’t you?”
Kenn hurriedly bowed. “Yes, Master. Of course, Master.”
“Good-good, because she has developed a fondness for human flesh.” He pulled Talon’s clawed hand up and kissed it. “You didn’t like it much at first though, did you? No, no, but after a few weeks without being fed anything else, you started to love it! Oh, yes you did!”
He grinned evilly at the two brothers. “Sometimes as a reward, I throw an unruly prisoner in with her.”
Ewzad Vriil watched Hamford and Kenn as they shivered in abject fear. He knew that he had two more servants he could trust completely. They now feared him too much to betray him. And that was good, because he needed them as bait to capture the other dragon. It was all just another step in his plan.
“Now, my dear servants, we have much work to do. We have a dragon to capture and there is much that I need to catch you two up on. You see a lot has changed since I last saw you, my dear Hamford. A lot has changed . . .”
Deathclaw examined the half-built castle from the safety of the trees. He had spent the afternoon exploring the land around the castle and learning the best way to avoid the humans that populated the area.
Along the way, mingled with the scents and tracks of humans, Deathclaw had caught a scent that terrified him. The human with the quivering hands was here; the wizard that had transformed him into the creature he was now. The smell of the wizard permeated everything and it got worse the closer to the castle he went.
He didn’t dare face that human. He even came close to leaving, but he caught a faint trace of another scent. It was familiar. This scent could very well belong to the one he sought, the one creature that was like him; his sister.
Deathclaw still did not know what he would do when he saw her, but he wasn’t concerned about that. All he knew was that his goal was in sight. He had a feeling that she was inside the massive shelter of stone that the humans were making. He would watch and wait. Then when the opportunity presented itself, he would act.
Chapter Twenty Five
It was a clear night. The moon was out and the air was crisp and cold. The autumn winds blew across the road to Sampo in a swirl of brown leaves.
The companions spent the first hour of their nighttime journey in silence. Two humans, an elf, and a rogue horse, each one deep in thought. All of them were making a big change, starting a new chapter in their lives.
Justan's thoughts were troubled. As he left Professor Valtrek standing by the front gate of the school, he had been excited with the prospects of the new journey. But when he took one last look back over his shoulder and saw the MageTower disappearing into the clouds, he felt an unexpected sadness well up in him. He would miss the place.
He didn't know where his life was going to take him or even if he would ever return. There were many people that he would miss. Professor Beehn, Riveren, Vincent, he hadn't been able to say goodbye to any of them.
Then there was Vannya. After the revelations of the night, Justan still felt bad for the way he had treated her. Part of him wondered what might have happened if he hadn’t come to the wrong conclusions about her, but any thoughts of longing over Vannya were disrupted by the presence of the Jharro Bow on his back and the memory of the woman that had given it to him. Would he ever see Jhonate again? He now seemed to be traveling farther away from her than ever before.
Justan shook his head to dispel the somber thoughts. He looked back to his two travel companions and saw that both of them were riding with their heads down, thinking quietly. Evidently they had their own worries to deal with.
Justan knew that Qyxal must be feeling some sorrow about leaving the place that had been his home for so many years. The elf had been sent there originally as a representative of his people and to grow the talents he had been born with, but the place had become a part of him.
Zambon’s attitude though, was a mystery. The guard had begun to act distant and strange about a week earlier and Justan had been too busy with his own work to delve into the reasons why. He wondered what was bothering the man. Zambon had never wanted to be at the MageSchool in the first place. Why was he torn up about leaving?
A jolt of happiness pushed at the back of his mind. Gwyrtha was trying to cheer him up. Justan smiled. His bond with the rogue horse had grown a lot since the day they met deep in the forest fighting off the moonrats. Strange to think how terrifying she had first appeared to him with her lizard-like snout full of sharp teeth and her legs tipped in powerful claws. Inside, she was like a playful puppy.
Gwyrtha was the only one of the group not hampered with deep thoughts and she had grown tired of the somberness of the others. She now had everything she wanted. She was free and she was with Justan. The noble creature's spirits were soaring and she eagerly pushed those feelings into Justan’s mind. Gwyrtha took his smile as permission to let some of her energy free.
Hoping for a race, she nipped at the rumps of Albert and Stanza, the two warhorses and squealed in challenge. Stanza neighed and, noting Gwyrtha's playfulness, Qyxal let her go. Gwyrtha and Stanza thundered up the road, the warhorses hoof beats and the clicks of Gwyrtha’s claws echoing through the still night air.
Albert wanted to join them as well, but Zambon reined him in. The guard was not in the mood for such antics.
Qyxal leaned forward, joining in the rhythm of his mount as she raced up the road while Justan, being a much less experienced rider, had to hang on for dear life.
Stanza was a warhorse bred and trained for battle. She was a fine specimen, large, swift, and strong. Normally this would give Stanza the edge but while she was a magnificent example of a powerful breed, Gwyrtha was pure magical perfection, a hybrid of the best attributes of many animals.
She hung back at first, letting Stanza have some fun, but she couldn't hold her energy back for long. She soon jumped forward, her loping strides taking her far ahead.
As she rushed through the night, Justan was able to shift his grip on her mane and find a more comfortable purchase on her back. He lifted his head a bit and with the wind blowing through his hair, Justan let go of his worries. He soon found himself caught up in the happiness Gwyrtha was exuding. He leaned forward and opened his mind up to her, joining in her thoughts.
In the beginning, it had been hard for them to communicate. Their ways of thinking were just too foreign to one another. Justan thought mainly in words, while Gwyrtha’s thoughts were a jumble of sights and sounds and smells. Things had changed since then. Justan had learned how to navigate the instinctive pattern of her thoughts and Gwyrtha’s mind had grown enough that she understood his words.
Now with their minds linked, Justan could feel the hard packed dirt of the road beneath her feet. Through her ears, he could hear the sounds of the night calls of birds and other creatures over the whistling of the wind that rushed past her ears.
She smelled the grasses and flowers interspersed with the scents of the living creatures that inhabited the land on either side of the road. To his amazement, she could even pick out each individual scent or sound and instinctively know which animals and plants were good to eat and which ones were poisonous.
This was as deep into their bond as he had ever been and a warning rippled across his thoughts, but his curiosity overcame his common sense. Justan immersed himself even deeper into her mind.
Now his thoughts began to match hers even more closely. He could feel the energy thrumming throughout her body, each muscle and tendon engineered to handle far more stress than any mere horse could. Justan’s own body was a weak husk compared to hers. He had always been ashamed of his body’s weaknesses, its inability to endure stress or even to follow the orders of his mind. Gwyrtha’s body didn’t have any of those weaknesses.
Justan sensed that if he stretched even deeper into her thoughts, he could join with her fully and leave his puny piece of flesh
behind. With Gwyrtha’s body he would have no need of swords or weapons. The power behind her huge teeth and claws could do just as much damage or even more. If he joined with her permanently, his senses would expand and he wouldn’t be burdened by the cares of his human life. He could run freely throughout the land and leave the worries of his old world behind. If he just stretched a little further . . .
With a yelp of pain, Gwyrtha skidded to a stop, sending Justan soaring over her head. Justan was disoriented for a moment as his thoughts were hurled from hers. He was jolted to his senses as his body hit the hard surface of the road, blasting the air from his lungs.
He rolled several yards before coming to a halt. It took what seemed like an eternity for him to regain control of his lungs and gasp for air. Finally, sweet air rushed in followed by the dust from the road. He coughed and sputtered and spat.
Messenger of the Dark Prophet (The Bowl of Souls: Book Two) Page 27
