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Wings of Fire (The Legend of Hooper's Dragons Book 7)

Page 38

by GARY DARBY


  Phigby hurries up and asks, “Did you see?”

  “Yes,” I answer, “it has a mark that it won’t leave.”

  “And?”

  “And that’s where the flaw, whatever it is, lies.” I scrunch my face up and ask, “So—how do we get it to move so that one of us can get to that spot?”

  “Not one of us,” Golden Wind corrects, “you.”

  “Uh, right. That’s what I meant. Me.”

  Phigby peers up at the golden. “Ready, Golden Wind?”

  “Ready, Master Phigby.”

  Phigby lays a hand on my shoulder. “And you be ready, Hooper, we may get only one chance at this.”

  I nod and swallow, gripping Galondraig a little tighter. “Let’s do this before you-know-who shows up.”

  “Indeed,” Phigby sighs and hurries off to the right while Golden Wind rushes to the left.

  Knowing what they’re about to do, I take a few steps forward, my face grim and my heart pounding. “Look at it this way, Hooper,” I murmur to myself, “if that thing freezes you, in the next instant it could thaw you out.”

  The serpent’s cat eyes follow me, narrowing as I draw closer. With an enormous hiss, it slithers forward but I hold my ground, waiting. A moment later, from the far right, Phigby darts forward, yelling, “Hey, Asklepian, you two-headed piece of ground-up scum, over here!”

  The serpent whirls, spots Phigby and slithers toward him. Phigby waits a moment before he retreats as Golden Wind lumbers forward to the far left. At the loud scraping of her talons, Asklepian shoots around and glides toward the golden.

  In the meantime, I hunch down and take several more steps forward, my eyes scanning the obsidian’s black sheen. It’s perfectly polished and doesn’t seem to have a mar anywhere on its surface.

  “Hooper!” At Golden Wind’s bellow I jerk my head up. Curled around, the serpent’s two heads stare at me. Then they slip to the surface and the monster slides my way, dripping fire that flares and sizzles when it strikes the surface.

  Just as I start to back away, Phigby runs in front of the creature, his ruby-red robe flapping as he skirts the monster. The snake whips around, lunging at him while spewing a fire stream but Phigby dives away at the last moment.

  Golden Wind lumbers forward and lashes the fiend with her own fire, but of course, it doesn’t affect the monster one whit. However, it does take the thing’s mind off me for a moment and I scoot forward to peer intently at the gleaming surface.

  I bend over, my eyes scanning the surface. “I’m in the right spot, I know it but there’s absolutely nothing here.”

  Then, I see something and go to one knee, my face so close to the surface that when I breathe, for an instant, I fog up the surface. “No . . .” I protest to myself, “that’s the flaw? That tiny crack?”

  The nick is no bigger than one of Scamper’s tiny claws and so small that I wouldn’t have seen it if it hadn’t shown as a squiggly line when I breathed on the shiny surface.

  “Hooper!” Phigby’s shout spins me around. The serpent is slithering full bore at me, its crimson cat eyes wide with cold fury. This time, neither Phigby nor Golden Wind can help me—they’re too far away and on the other side of the monster.

  I spring to my feet, Galondraig at the ready, but in my heart I know that against this beast, my wondrous sword is useless. My one thought is—will the creature kill me with searing fire, rendering me little more than a pile of ash, or will it turn me into a frozen statue? For some reason, I think I prefer the latter.

  Suddenly, a brown bundle of fur skitters in front of the creature, snarls and chitters at the thing before Scamper scoots off to one side.

  For one instant, Asklepian is distracted by Scamper’s antics and Phigby bellows, “Now, Hooper! Now!”

  I whip around, hold Galondraig high with both hands on the hilt and cry out, Vald Hitta Sasi Ein! Power to this One!

  With all my might, I thrust Galondraig straight down, its tip slicing into the tiny slit.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  For a moment, nothing happens but then Galondraig plunges deeper into the obsidian. A blinding radiance builds in the haft and then, like a lightning bolt, shoots down the sword’s length and into the blackness. Like a glimmering wave it spreads outward covering the enormous disc.

  Behind me, I can hear Asklepian slithering up to tower over me. I don’t have to look back to know that it has its heads curved back, ready to lunge forward and blast me with fire or ice.

  My heartbeat pounds in my ears, the sweat pours down my face but my hands are clammy and cold. I desperately want to run, to escape the horror behind me, but I stand fast, holding Galondraig deep within the smooth, glasslike rock.

  Suddenly, there’s a sharp crack! At my feet a fissure opens. It zigzags off across the surface and then another break in the sheen opens up and then another and another and another. In an instant, the obsidian appears like a mirror that’s had a rock thrown at it—shattered and splintered.

  There’s a deep rumbling under my feet and abruptly, I’m thrown off balance as if a titan pushed up to tilt the obsidian plate to one side. Then, I’m whipped the other way. I hang on to Galondraig, struggling to keep my balance against the wild tipping. I’m unwilling to let go of my sword, afraid that if I do, I’ll stop whatever it is that’s happening to Vay’s portal.

  My eyes grow rounder as at my feet, the obsidian begins to crumble and splinter as the cracks become wider and wider. The disk slants, first one way and then the other, rocking back and forth, heaving up and down, no longer stable. From the crevices I hear shrieks and desperate otherworldly calls, as if the underworld creatures are caught in the turmoil and can’t get out.

  I take a chance and glance over my shoulder. Asklepian is weaving back and forth as if it too is unable to hold itself upright. Its hisses grow louder in agitation as the thing’s two heads are whipped back and forth, banging into each other.

  Suddenly, I feel a blast of air and peer up. Descending on me is Golden Wind, with Phigby and Scamper peering over her neck. “Time to go!” Phigby shouts.

  I point down. “Is it enough?!”

  “More than enough!” he calls back.

  I yank Galondraig out and as soon as I do, I find myself flailing about, trying to keep my balance. Golden Wind settles just off to the side, close, yet far away as the disc continues to roll one way and then the other before heaving itself up and down. Phigby frantically waves at me to hurry!

  At my feet where I jerked Galondraig out, a hole appears, into which pieces of obsidian get sucked in and disappear. The rift widens, pulling more and more of the disc into its dark depths.

  “Uh oh,” I mumble as the circle grows, “definitely time to go!”

  I stumble and weave, trying to hold a straight line toward the golden but it’s like walking on the deck of a heaving boat caught in a titanic storm. I look over my shoulder and my eyes grow full at the sight. The hole reaches Asklepian and a moment later, sucks the fire serpent into the ebony depths.

  “That will be you, Hooper,” I gasp to myself, “if you don’t get a move on!”

  The sheer fear, and the thought that I might get sucked down into the netherworld and join the ranks of the vile vermin that inhabit that foul place, drive me forward as I pump my legs against the portal’s heaving surface.

  The sucking sound of the hole becomes louder and louder as it widens just behind me, accompanied by the sound of an enormous piece of fabric that’s being ripped down the center. Around me, the plate is no longer whole but torn into huge chunks that bounce and collide against each other.

  There’s a deep rumbling and grinding as the portal starts to lift up and slide into the black, swirling vortex that’s swallowing Vay’s portal chunk by huge chunk. Try as I may, I can’t reach the golden. I’m in a maelstrom of my own making and it’s about to pull me into its yawning mouth.

  I’m tilted one way before I slide back the other. I have nothing to hold onto as I’m tossed about like a cork
caught in a raging storm at sea. There’s a deep moaning as the plate heaves and lunges in its death throes and I know that at any moment I’ll be swept into the vortex.

  I hear a shout and look up. The golden sideslips right at me and instantly I know I have only one chance at coming out of this alive. At the last moment, I leap upward—to be caught in Phigby’s strong arms and hauled across the golden’s neck.

  The golden’s mighty wings lift us up and up until we burst out of the churning whirlpool into the steaming air of the giant cavern. With Phigby’s help, I manage to right myself on the golden and scabbard Galondraig. Scamper butts his little head in my chest and asks, Awwrrritte?

  “Yes. Again, thanks to you. You’re becoming quite the hero, you know.”

  Awwwrrr, he returns and butts me again as I scratch behind his ears. “Hooper,” Phigby says as he taps me on the shoulder, “over there.”

  I wipe sweat from my eyes and stare in the direction he points. “It’s the company,” I acknowledge.

  “Yes,” Phigby agrees, “and they’re in one big hurry.”

  “You’re right,” I reply, “and that can’t be good.”

  “And neither can that,” he answers. “Look down.”

  I peer over the golden’s side. The molten whirlpool is collapsing in on itself but as it does, there’s a massive, churning upswell that grows larger even as I watch. “It’s gone,” I state. “Vay’s portal—we destroyed it?”

  “Yes, m’boy, we did, but from the looks of it, we’ve stirred up the fire mountain’s innards. I would suggest we depart from these regions and swiftly.”

  “Don’t need to tell me twice. Golden Wind, head for the company and by the way, I certainly appeciated you coming for me down there.”

  “You are indeed welcome, Hooper.”

  At that, the golden spurts forward. “Uh, Phigby, may I ask you a question?”

  “Certainly, what’s on your mind?”

  “What did you and Golden Wind talk about in those, uh, ‘discussions’ of yours?”

  “Why, you, of course.”

  “Oh.”

  I think about it for a moment and then ask, “How long have you known that Golden Wind and I could talk to each other?”

  “From the beginning, of course.”

  “Cara talks to her too, you know.”

  “I know—as does the rest of the company.”

  “What?!”

  Phigby chuckles. “Did you really think that you kept your secret ‘secret’ this whole time?”

  “Well, I tried!”

  “And a valiant effort too.”

  “Just not valiant enough. How long have they known?”

  “Oh, they were suspicious almost from the start, but being the stalwart friends they are, they kept it to themselves, having decided you would tell them when the time was right.”

  “Hear that, Golden Wind? You’ve kept me guarding a secret that wasn’t so secret.”

  “I know, Hooper. But the lesson wasn’t just for them, it was also for you.”

  “Huh?”

  “Sometimes, Hooper, the promise to keep a confidence is just as important as keeping the secret itself. It is a way to honor friendship and to let others know that you are trustworthy, even when it seems that others know the so-called secret.”

  “Oh. I see. So, how did I do?”

  “As we usually know ourselves best of all, that is for you to decide, don’t you think?”

  I nod slowly. “I guess so.”

  The company wings up with wide grins and shouts of joy at seeing Phigby, but he quickly holds up a hand to quieten them. “We must leave and swiftly for several reasons.”

  Amil calls out, “That’s why we headed back, professor!” He motions over his shoulder. “That Fire Element thingie is leading his whole horde this way, along with the Wilders, through that huge tunnel that leads in here.”

  Alonya thrusts a finger toward the roof. “Only way out is the way we came in!”

  Phigby and I peer upward at first before we glance down at the churning cauldron below. “Reminds me of a bubbling pot of oatmeal about to boil over,” I grunt.

  “Yes,” Phigby replies, “and cook us at the same time.”

  He turns in his seat and calls loudly over his shoulder, “Bold Wind!”

  In answer, the big scarlet wings swiftly up to Golden Wind. “What are you doing?” I sputter. “You’re not thinking of jumping? In case you’ve forgotten that’s a lake of fire below us.”

  “I’m doing what I must,” he replies and then lays a hand on my shoulder. “And when it comes time, so will you.”

  “Phigby, no, Golden Wind can carry you.”

  “I know, lad, but trust me. Both of us must be ready to meet the storm that’s coming, you on Golden Wind and I on Bold Wind.”

  Bold Wind eases up under Golden Wind and before I can protest again Phigby pushes himself off. He flails through the air for a moment before he rights himself and slams belly-first onto Bold Wind’s back. He lies there for a moment, as if stunned, before he crawls to Bold Wind’s neck saddle and settles in.

  “Are you all right?” I call.

  “As I said before,” he huffs and straightens his robe. “I’m really getting too old for this sort of thing.” He points upward. “Up you go, Hooper, we’ll follow!”

  “What about your bag?”

  “It will do Vay no good, and for now, we’ll do what we must without it. Now, go!”

  Golden Wind surges upward, toward the dark cavity that marks the entrance to the shaft that leads out. I glance back and see the company winging close behind but then I spot something else that causes my eyes to widen.

  Out of a large, dark tunnel, leading a horde of Blackguards and Fire Hounds strides the Fire Elementis. In one fiery hand, he holds a sword that seems to be pure fire. Like the Fire Snake, he drips fire and brimstone.

  He reaches the edge of the brewing lake and stretches out his flaming hand. From the churning liquid, a huge tongue of molten rock forms and swiftly stretches up toward us, faster than the dragons are skying.

  The Fire Elementis steps on the fiery bridge and begins running, at first slowly, and then faster and faster. His fiery eyes are fixed on us, his mouth open in a fiery roar that booms in the enormous cavern.

  The Blackguards and Fire Hounds are close behind, their mouths open in guttural braying as they surge across the bridge. My jaw drops at the sight and I spit out, “How are they doing that?”

  “At this point, does it matter?” Golden Wind replies.

  “You’re right. Golden Wind, faster!” I yelp.

  The golden’s wings beat harder, pushing us through the air but then a blast of cold air, like an invisible wall, blows through the channel above and slams into Golden Wind and the other dragons. All stagger in the air against the wind’s stunning force.

  The wind gusts pummel us, pushing us back toward the oncoming fire creature and his Blackguard army. Golden Wind and the other dragons struggle mightily, but they can’t make any headway against the roaring gale.

  Carried by the wind, I hear, You and your filthy band are trapped, Hooper Menvoran, and for what you’ve done, you shall all die!

  I turn my stricken face to the others, and call, “We can’t get out and Vay’s here!”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  Phigby whips his head around to stare at the rampaging fire beasts that thunder toward us and yells, “We can’t go up! We’ll have to fight our way out!”

  With that, Bold Wind dives down, straight at the Fire Elementis. “Let’s go, Golden Wind,” I direct. “We need to help him, remember, he’s really too old for this sort of thing.”

  “Indeed,” she growls and veers away from the dark opening to the shaft. The rest of the company turns their dragons as the golden flashes by following Bold Wind in his downward plunge.

  “He’s going for the fire beast,” I say of Phigby, “but he doesn’t even have a sword!”

  “Then I suggest we help him,” Go
lden Wind responds.

  She wings over, tucks her wings and we fall even faster. “Get ready,” she calls.

  Galondraig is already in my hand as I lean into the wind. Scamper has his front paws on the golden’s skull ridge, his little face pushed forward as if he were poised to leap at the Elementis.

  I reach out a hand and pull him back a little. “Hey, Scamp, I know you want to take on that whole army, but you’re not fireproof, you know.”

  He chitters at me and I reply, “Yes, I know you’re a hero and took on Asklepian all by yourself, but you might not get so lucky this time. There’s more than one snake down there and they’re all fire-breathers.”

  That seems to make an impression on him and he settles his little rump lower as if he’s not quite so anxious to take on Vay’s horde of fire creatures now.

  Golden Wind puts on a burst of speed until we’re even with Bold Wind. I glance over at Phigby, but he’s hunched over, his eyes fixed on the Elementis. Just then, to my surprise, the golden veers sharply to the right, away from the creature.

  Bold Wind slams to a halt just in front of the Elementis, rears back and unleashes a ferocious onslaught of dragon fire. Vay’s fire demon slides to a stop, brings back his head and from his jagged mouth spews fire and brimstone.

  The two fire streams meet and there’s a colossal explosion so bright, so intense that I duck my head away for a moment. Then, Golden Wind whips back around to head straight at the fiery beast. “Get ready, Hooper!” she calls.

  I grip Galondraig a little tighter. “Ready!”

  The fire creature draws back its sword and slashes down at Bold Wind. Out of its tip erupts a huge, rolling ball of fire. The orb spins through the air at Phigby and Bold Wind, spitting out embers and leaving a trail of black smoke.

  Bold Wind drops like a rock and the fireball rolls through the air until it explodes against the cavern’s walls. Huge boulders blast outward to splash into the molten rock and spray fire and flame across the churning surface.

  Picking up speed, at the last instant the golden tilts herself to one side and tucks her wings. We flash behind the Elementis and with two hands on the hilt, I whip Galondraig through the air.

 

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