Book Read Free

Blazing Earth

Page 22

by TERRI BRISBIN


  “For my son, Thea. For my son.”

  His words, his plea broke her heart and she nodded at him, pulling her power back inside her body and holding out her hand to him across the altar stone to him. He grasped her wrist with his upturned hand and nodded at Geoffrey. Serving as priest, the man sliced across their wrists while saying another prayer she could not understand.

  Watching in disbelief, Thea saw that the blood that flowed from her veins was golden in color and shimmered like the sun as it poured onto the surface there, mixing with the deep red blood there already. Tolan made a fist and added his, green and glowing, into the other two. The bloods swirled there, mixing and yet remaining separate.

  This was the point from which they could never turn back. If they dipped the marks they each bore into this puddle of blood and painted the stones that held the same marks with it, the gateway would seal. If they destroyed the altar and the blood drained onto the barrier, it would break and release hell on earth.

  Time itself seemed to hold then. She could see nothing but Tolan. She could hear nothing but the beating of a human heart somewhere within her. The blood bubbled and boiled there before them and then . . .

  Tolan reached out and, using a hand of stone, crushed the altar before them.

  The three-colored blood poured onto the ground and ran down the few yards toward the center slowly. She watched as the first drops ran over an edge she’d not seen before and splashed onto the barrier she knew was there. Tolan met her gaze for a second before turning to watch. Geoffrey backed away as the cracking sound began.

  Like the sound of a breaking eggshell, but multiplied thousands and thousands of times, the barrier broke. Steaming air rushed out of the chasm in a gush, spreading over the circle and out. Suddenly, the light was gone and she could see those outside.

  She thought there should be screaming now. Or wailing. Or pleas for mercy. Instead, nothing broke the silence as they watched something begin to rise from the steam.

  A talon appeared over the edge, followed by another grasping near the same place. Thea had seen hunting birds like hawks and falcons. She’d seen huge owls with their deadly talons that could pick up their prey and bear them away. But the talons sliding along the ground there before her were larger than anything she had ever seen.

  Then wings were revealed, unlike those of any bird she knew. Sliding, almost crawling along the ground, gaining purchase and a hold as the creature hoisted its head and body out of the earth. It could not be and yet it was.

  A mythical creature of legend. A deadly beast of fire and destruction. Chaela the goddess was a . . .

  Dragon.

  Thea looked at Tolan and shook her head, taking one, then another step back. He grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her more quickly away until their backs were against one of the stones standing guard around the now-opened gateway.

  Like a ghastly version of a newly born colt, the creature shook itself as it half dragged and half crawled out of the abyss. Once it was completely out onto the ground, it peered around and found them.

  Was this their last moment? Would they die for their sin now? Would the others be killed by this demonic being that they had unleashed?

  The dragon stretched its arms and wings out over the circle and almost covered the whole area of it. Scales of black and red covered the expansive wings, and the talons appeared dipped in gold. Its head reared back then and Thea saw the huge fangs in its mouth. But that was not the worst thing to happen.

  Nay, the worst was when it screeched out a horrible, earsplitting cry and then let out a blast of fire. Thea watched in shock as the beast smiled and looked on its enemies, its deadly intent clear. It inhaled then, filling its lungs with air, and spewed flames over the stones and into the field where the others watched in horror. A sound that could only be described as jubilation followed as though it was well pleased with its abilities.

  Then the dragon stood and took a step and then another, reaching the stones. It took but one more step for it to breach the circle, and as Thea stood frozen in fear, it began its attack.

  * * *

  Corann could not tear his eyes away. After decades of praying that this would not happen, he was witnessing it himself. All their planning and preparation and yet they had failed. The goddess was free of the barrier that held her in the abyss and was now turning her glowing amber gaze on the countless soldiers and priests surrounding the circle.

  This was his nightmare come alive. He searched within for his faith so that they could cast protective spells that might strengthen the warriors and those fighting. And he found none. His fear was so paralyzing in this moment of greatest need that all he could think was of the terrible mistake Marcus had made in choosing him to lead.

  Then he felt the hand of the priest Ander on his arm.

  “Marcus chose you, my friend. He believed you could lead us in this grievous time.”

  Corann found himself surrounded by the other priests, the ones who had followed their calling from the island where peace had reigned for their entire lives. Now they most assuredly faced their deaths and yet they turned to him.

  As he witnessed the first attack and as many fell before her fire, Corann sought the spell that would protect them all. In his memory, he heard Marcus singing it and he closed his eyes and began to sing the melody. The words, he could not find or remember. Ander and the others joined in, waiting for him to add the power into the spell with the words only he would know.

  More died in his moments of hesitation and he could only think of simple words—save us, O gods of all, save us. He repeated the words, closing his eyes and hoping to find the ones he, they, the world needed when the air around him heated and the priests made no sounds at all.

  When he dared to open his eyes, the hellish gaze of the dragon stared into them. Like living fire, its eyes were the color of molten copper and its breath was fetid and hot against him.

  “Priest,” it whispered, “I am free.” A woman’s voice, partly human and partly something else, spoke from within the beast. “And now you all will die.”

  It inhaled deeply, preparing for a killing strike, and he heard Ander mumbling his prayer. Would the gods forgive him this failure? Would he forgive himself for not being to protect those who’d put their faith in him?

  The dragon lifted its head back and began to exhale.

  CHAPTER 23

  Tolan watched as the creature prepared to unleash hell on earth. At first, Tolan could not believe what he was seeing, for the only place where a thing such as this existed was in stories and legends of old. But then, if the Old Ones were only known through the same, Tolan should not be surprised that a dragon had just crawled up from the earth.

  Giving him and Thea and Geoffrey nothing more than a glance, the dragon turned its sight on those outside the stones. Those who had stood and did stand against it. Those who called themselves the Warriors of Destiny and the humans who fought alongside them. To Tolan’s absolute horror, the first wave of fiery death was aimed at those most vulnerable. The dragon took out a line of William’s fighters, killing at least ten men with one breath of flames.

  “I have to get Kirwyn,” Tolan said. He pressed Thea against the stone and bade her to remain. “Stay here.”

  The dragon crawled across the land, regaining its strength and mobility as it headed to other groups gathered around the circle. Tolan ran toward the spot where Hugh stood watching it all, the fireblood’s laughter heard above the screams of terror and death. But then something caught Tolan’s gaze and he turned to see the creature advancing on the priests. Corann and Ander stood before them, the only thing between the small group of praying defenseless ones and the destroyer poised to kill them.

  With only a thought, Tolan thrust up a wall of earthen clay before the priests, protecting them from the first blast of its deadly breath. The heat of it baked the clay as in an oven ins
tead of the people standing behind it. They scurried back away, but the dragon rose now, lifting itself off the ground with a few flaps of its huge wings.

  “Soren!” Tolan called out. “Stormblood!” he yelled, and pointed.

  A strong burst of wind hit the dragon, knocking it from its path and its intent and sending it tumbling to the ground. It rolled several times before screeching out its fury and rising once more. The stormblood continued to pummel the beast. Each time it stood or tried to rise, the winds would take it down, pushing it to the earth.

  Then rain poured in torrents on the beast, creating a thick cloud of steam whenever it breathed its fire. It screamed out in frustration and turned its gaze to other targets.

  With the two fighting its every move, Tolan turned his own attentions from the beast and back to reaching his son, who remained in Hugh’s grasp there up on the ridge between the stones.

  “Kirwyn!” he yelled as he moved the earth to flatten the embankment around the area. Though the move made Hugh stumble, he never lost hold of Kirwyn. Reaching the place before Hugh, Tolan rose and faced the fireblood. “I did as you said. Now release my son.”

  He tried not to see the agony on his son’s face. Hugh’s hand still merged with his own and Tolan could not imagine the pain of such a thing. Now Hugh turned to face him and nodded.

  “Is she not the most glorious thing you have even seen, Tolan?” Hugh laughed again, nodding at the creature who was trying to escape from the assault of the stormblood and the waterblood. “She has not fed for a long time so is not at her full strength. But even their bloodlines will not help them when she does.”

  “Hugh,” Tolan said again, prepared to beg if need be to get his son out of the clutches of this dangerous man.

  “’Tis done here now. We can leave these to the goddess,” Hugh said. “She will take care of them and grow stronger. Then we will set the world on fire and make it as we want it to be. Come.”

  Hugh released his fiery grip on Tolan’s son, and Kirwyn stumbled. Tolan took one step and Hugh shouted to stop him.

  “He has much to learn, Tolan. As do you,” Hugh said in a calm voice. As the battle raged on around them, Tolan only knew he must free his son. “At the goddess’s side, we will rule,” Hugh said.

  Tolan would not do that, nor allow his son to be so tutored, and his resolution must have shown in his expression, for Hugh shook his head. “I can still kill him, Tolan. Doubt it not.”

  “As I could kill you, my lord?” Kirwyn said softly.

  Both Hugh and Tolan noticed the dagger at the same moment. Deadly sharp. Kirwyn held the point of it at Hugh’s neck. His hand shook, for it was his left one rather than his right, and from his pain-ridden condition.

  “Drop this weapon, Kirwyn,” Hugh said. His tone was like that of a rebuking father rather than someone in fear of his life. All it would take to kill him would be one twist of that dagger in his neck and yet he seemed almost patient with Kirwyn.

  “You will not use me against my father again,” Kirwyn hissed through clenched teeth. He raised his hand, threatening to push the weapon into Hugh’s neck. “I will kill you before I let you use me to force him to your bidding again.”

  Fierce pride warred with terror at the sight before Tolan. His son was braver than even he was, and Tolan wished he had known that. Now, though, Tolan must stop this. Hugh could kill the boy in an instant, and yet he did not.

  “You see, Tolan? He is stronger than you thought and will grow stronger, too.”

  “Nay!” Kirwyn said. “I will not be your pawn.”

  Kirwyn’s arm shook badly now and Tolan would not be able to get there quickly enough to stop either thing from happening. His son bent his hand at the wrist and started to push the dagger in. The moment seemed to last for hours until an unseen guard thrust his sword through Kirwyn from behind.

  Blood sputtered from Kirwyn’s mouth as he looked at Tolan in surprise and disbelief. He began to fall and Hugh caught him, exchanging a momentary and inexplicable glance with Tolan. As Tolan ran to them, Hugh lifted Kirwyn in his arms and tossed his son to him.

  He cradled Kirwyn to his chest, tears pouring from his eyes as his son forced a breath in and out. Blood poured from the deadly wound and from his mouth.

  “Kirwyn,” Tolan whispered. “Son.”

  Kirwyn’s chest rattled and he took his last breath. His eyes, the blue-green color that was part of him and Corliss, now stared sightlessly into the smoky sky above.

  “Nay!” Tolan roared.

  He could not be dead. He could not die. Kirwyn was his only child, the only thing left of Corliss. His son. Tears poured down his cheeks as he rocked the boy as he had many times before. When he was sick. When he was teething. When he was hurt. Tolan walked the floors of their cottage for many hours soothing whatever hurt his beloved son.

  Now . . . nothing he did could fix this.

  He screamed out his pain and wrapped himself around Kirwyn, taking him into the earth beneath them. Mayhap the earth itself could save him? Mayhap his power over it could bring Kirwyn back to life? He burrowed deep and far, praying to the Old Ones for their help. Praying for their blessings.

  Praying for their forgiveness.

  Tolan stopped, holding his son close, and knew the truth of it—the gods would not give favor to one who had betrayed them.

  His son was dead and evil had been let loose on the world.

  His son was dead.

  * * *

  The guard was dead an instant after the boy died.

  With but a glance, Hugh killed the guard and motioned for Eudes to gather their troops. The goddess would destroy the others and then take flight, seeking a refuge to regain her strength. And Hugh would follow her.

  Even if the others could survive her attacks, their ranks would be decimated and they would not be able to do much but gather to lick their wounds. And stand by uselessly as Hugh fulfilled the work of countless generations in bringing about the reign of Chaela.

  Hugh watched as Tolan caught his son and realized he was dying. A strange sensation filled him then, one he had not allowed himself to feel in a long time.

  True regret over such a loss.

  The boy had such potential, but more than that, he was bright and inquisitive and someone Hugh would have found joy in teaching. Mayhap his death was a better thing, for allowing some kind of tender feelings to build between them might create a weakness in Hugh as it had in the boy’s own father? Hesitation could not be allowed in following the goddess, so this removed any possibility.

  Within seconds, Tolan had engulfed the boy and taken him underground, as he had Geoffrey. Did he think he could bring the boy back to life? Restore him somehow with his own power and that of the earth from whence he drew it?

  It would not work. Hugh had tried it before, using the power of his gift to raise the dead. So he knew Tolan would fail.

  Eudes brought Hugh’s horse and he mounted, searching within and without the standing stones for his cousin. Geoffrey had succeeded beyond Hugh’s expectations, in both finding the necessary words and conducting the ritual to open the gateway. Both Hugh and the goddess owed him much.

  “Can you see Geoffrey?” he called out to Eudes as they rode north. “He is supposed to bring the sunblood to us.”

  He’d most likely expected too much of his cousin in this regard. With Hugh’s promise to draw the earthblood away, Geoffrey was to bring the woman to him when the confusion could cover his actions. Without the earthblood to protect her, it should be a simple, though not easy task. And yet Hugh could see his cousin within the circle near the woman. Hugh rode closer, intent on grabbing her when Geoffrey pushed her outside the stones.

  He stopped just a few paces from the stones, gaping at the abyss now that was still opened into the earth. When he had been allowed a glimpse at the place where the other gods had imprisoned Chaela,
his human mind could not conceive of such a place. Now, seeing the chasm and the sheer size of it, he could not imagine it existing, let alone being created by a single god’s thought alone.

  At the sound of the sunblood’s screams, he looked into the circle and saw her struggling with his cousin. Geoffrey was trying to drag her, and when that was not successful, he pushed her back against one of the stones. He only got one chance before she fought back.

  In an action even Hugh did not consider, Elethea exploded with the light of the sun, losing her body’s limitations and surrounding her attacker with light and heat. Hugh knew she healed with such a power, but this time it was something different. Geoffrey glowed brightly for a moment as she held on to him and he screamed in pain. The shining light that filled him began to grow dull with each passing second until it went out.

  Hugh’s cousin was dead. His body remained like an empty husk before her until she pushed him away, shaking her head as though she did not believe what she’d done. He knew immediately what had happened. Just as she was the healing and life force of the sun, she could also take that life force from someone.

  Hugh laughed and called to her then, holding out his hand for her to come to him. “Elethea! Come with me now!”

  She looked at him in horror and backed away, from his cousin’s body now at her feet, and from him.

  At Eudes’s call, Hugh knew he had no more time to wait for her. This would not be their last encounter, and he would get the opportunity to invite her to join him. That would be the last offer he would make to her before he and his goddess destroyed her and any left standing against them.

  Hugh shivered in anticipation of conquering this one and the Norse woman and then he answered Eudes’s call and rode west.

  To Wales.

  * * *

  The dragon’s unholy gaze fell upon Aislinn when it could not reach the priests. With Tolan gone, the warblood knew not when he would return, or if he would at all. The boy died right in front of his father, and Tolan had gone to earth. Now the most valuable of their allies was under attack.

 

‹ Prev