Dragonvein Book Four

by Brian D. Anderson

  “That is my hope,” he replied.

  “Then let’s get the hell out of here.”

  “You cannot leave!” The voice of Miriam echoed loudly. The ghostly figure returned, positioning itself directly in front of their only way out. “I will not allow it!”

  Martok lowered his head. “I am truly sorry about what has happened. In spite of what you did to me, I do love you. And if I could have prevented the elves from meting out vengeance upon you, I would have done so.”

  “You are a liar! And I never loved you. Never! You deserved what happened to you.”

  He drew a long breath. “I know you never had any true feelings for me. I think in my heart I must have always known that. Even so, I did love you. I still do. But the truth is, you are well beyond my aid. And I cannot change the past.” He glanced over to Kat. “I must now look to the future.”

  His final words drew a sinister laugh from Miriam's hazy form. “You have no future, Martok. Your time ends here…with me. I will have justice. And there is nothing you can do to stop it.” Her voice rose and her arm extended. “Aktilinium toxo morticas.”

  The spell was instantly familiar to Martok. It was used to activate a previously administered poison, usually much later on when the poisoner was well away from the scene of their crime and could claim innocence of any involvement. Several mages he'd known of had invited a supposed friend to dine at their manor, then found themselves suddenly struck down by a fatal malady during the days that followed. Only an infinitesimal particle of the poison was required, and it could remain in the victim's body for as long or as little time as the killer required.

  Awareness came with a rush. “The water from the stream.”

  Even as he was finishing the short sentence, a wave of dizziness washed over him. With a deeply furled brow, he reached out and felt Kat’s hand steadying him.

  “The stream water indeed,” Miriam mocked. “I knew you would be unable to resist tasting it. Especially after I created a little dryness in the air. I could have allowed the poison to work immediately, but I was curious as to what lies you might speak.”

  A small gasp came from Kat. “She has poisoned you?”

  Martok's voice was now nothing more than a strangled croak. “Yes. I must get to the surface...straight away.”

  Miriam's taunting laughter grated against his ears. “You see? I have defeated you once again. Goodbye…husband.”

  Gradually the spirit faded away, though the foul cackling of her amusement lingered, seemingly following them as Kat helped Martok to the entrance.

  There was a look of deep apprehension on her face. “How long do we have?”

  “I don’t know,” he gasped. “Minutes...hours. It all depends on the potency.”

  He could see the fear in her eyes and gave her a reassuring smile. “We’ll make it. Ethan’s body is young and strong.”

  Confident words, but Martok knew full well how far away they were from the surface. And the steep ascent, combined with his weakened state, was sure to slow them down even more.

  Just getting himself back through the narrow opening was tough enough. But then came the steps. Up and up they continued, each new rising pace becoming ever more difficult than the previous one. He was losing all sense of awareness. Had they reached the top of the stairs yet? He had no idea. After what felt like an interminable length of time, all he knew for certain was that he could go no further. His legs collapsed beneath him and he felt the hardness of the stone wall pressing against his back.

  “Please.” Kat’s voice sounded very distant. “You have to keep going. We’re almost there now.”

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I have failed you.”

  “Get up, goddamn it! You have to get up!”

  “I wish I could have made you love me…as I love you.”

  “But I do. I do love you. Only you must get up.”

  Martok was sure he must be hallucinating. Could it possibly be true? Did she just say...

  He never got to finish this final thought before losing consciousness completely.

  Chapter Four

  Oblivion. That was where he must have gone. Yet somehow, he had returned. The warmth of the sun on his face told him so. As did its bright light filtering in through closed eyes. But how did one return from oblivion? That was impossible. Wasn’t it? And yet here he was. He opened his eyes, though the dazzling rays immediately compelled him to shut them again. He tried to roll over, but it felt as if his body was paralyzed.

  “Don’t move.”

  The feminine voice was soft and muffled, as if coming from the other side of a door.

  Kat? Probably. She must have somehow dragged his body the rest of the way from the passage and healed him. But if he was healed, why could he not move? What had the poison done? Perhaps it was beyond her skills to heal him completely.

  Little matter. He would get them to Lylinora quickly enough. Now that he was outside, he could use magic to speed them along. Even if his body was failing, his power would be undiminished.

  “Help me up,” he said. Even to his own ears, his voice was little more than a whisper.

  “Be still,” she replied. She was sounding a bit clearer now.

  He forced his eyes open again, this time squinting against the sun's powerful glare. “Where are we?”

  “Just outside the cavern entrance. You almost didn’t make it.” Kat used her hand to help shield his eyes. “I had to carry you.”

  “Thank you,” he said, forcing a weak smile. But something was wrong. Kat’s face was set hard. “Why do you look at me so?”

  “I’ve known it was you all the time, Martok,” she said. “I’ve known for a while.”

  He renewed his effort to sit up, but still with no success. “What are you talking about?”

  “I know you’ve been pretending to be Ethan. Do you think I’m stupid? You think I can’t tell the difference?”

  Martok’s senses instantly sharpened. It wasn't weakness that was preventing him from rising - he was being restrained. As awareness continued returning he felt something disturbingly familiar around his neck. The collar. Kat had put that cursed collar on him. The memory of his wife standing over him in similar circumstances came back in a rush. The hate in her eyes. The fury in her voice. And now history was repeating itself. Once again, a woman that he loved had betrayed him.

  “Release me at once,” he demanded. “You're wrong. Wrong about everything.”

  “Don’t bother lying. I know you blackmailed Renald into keeping quiet.”

  Renald. The very sound of the name provoked his anger to an even greater pitch. He would make very sure that the old man suffered once he was free.

  “Renald is a fool,” he growled. “I should have known he cared nothing for his son.”

  Kat shook her head. “Renald didn’t tell me anything. Lylinora discovered the truth by using a spell while he slept. She was the one who told me. Not that it made any difference. I already knew by then anyway. I knew the game you were playing.”

  “If you knew, why didn’t you say something? Why pretend to love me as if I was Ethan?”

  “I wasn’t pretending.”

  Her response threw him for a moment. He eyed her curiously. “Now I would know why you are lying.”

  “I’m not. I care for you deeply. You saved my life…and Ethan’s. And I can see how much you love this world.”

  His voice rose sharply. “Then why have you imprisoned me like this?”

  “Because if I didn’t, I’d lose Ethan forever. And my love for him is far greater than anything I could ever feel for you.”

  These words cut into him deeply. “So you would rather die – you would rather see everyone die – just to have Ethan with you instead of me? Because that’s what will happen. You cannot defeat Shinzan. Not without my help.”

  “That is a chance I'm willing to take.”

  “Then you are a selfish child,” he retorted, hotly. “How I could have seen in you anything othe
r than that is beyond my understanding.”

  “Yes,” she admitted. “I am selfish. But so are you. You could have passed on the knowledge we need. But you decided to steal Ethan’s body instead. You still can’t get over what happened to you when you were alive. Now, all you are after is a second chance to get control and rule the world.”

  Martok could hardly believe he was hearing these words coming from Kat. Not after feeling so sure just a short time ago that he was winning her over. “You speak about things that are far beyond your understanding,” he told her. “And because of this, you will doom us all. I only want to heal this world, not rule it. That's all I've ever wanted. Who other than me do you think could accomplish this? The dwarves? Your moron of a father? Do you honestly believe the races would unite under his banner? Even if you did succeed in defeating Shinzan - which you most certainly will not - your actions would ensure that Lumnia is ravaged by war for countless generations to come.”

  “No, you misjudge them,” she countered, ignoring the insult to her father. “The people have already united. They don’t need an all-powerful leader to make them do what they know in their hearts is right.”

  A mocking laugh slipped from Martok's lips. “Don’t be so naïve. The elves and the dwarves have come together out of necessity, nothing more. And humans have never been able to accept that they must share this world. The alliance you see will crumble the very moment they no longer have a common enemy to fight. Do you really believe thousands of years of hatred and distrust can be washed away so easily?”

  Kat shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe you’re right. Maybe this really is all for nothing. But I know I’m not going to let you go through with your plan. You will not have Ethan’s body. And you will not replace Shinzan.”

  “Replace?” He struggled against the collar, but a searing pain shot through his head. It took several moments before he was able to continue. “Katyana. I am begging you. Listen to reason. The control I have over Ethan is permanent; it cannot be undone. Release me and I will forgive you for your lapse in judgment. I give you my word on that. Once we have resolved this misunderstanding, then together we will destroy Shinzan.”

  Kat chuckled softly. “You honestly think I believe that?” She shook her head. “No, Ethan is still inside there somewhere. And when we get to the dragons, then he’ll be able to come back to me.”

  A jolt of anxiety ran through Martok. He tried to disguise this with a scornful laugh. “The dragons? What good will going there do you? Ethan’s bond with the elves has left him vulnerable to me. And you should know that from all of the Dragonvein line, only I hold the knowledge and the power to use this crystal. Ethan certainly cannot.”

  “If that’s true, then you have nothing to worry about, right? But then again, why would Ethan have told me to bring his body there if this ever happened? That's a strange thing to ask if he knew it wouldn’t do him any good.”

  Martok's anger began to swell again. “Damn it, girl. Release me, or I swear I will rip Ethan’s spirit apart. I’ll send him to the depths of oblivion. Do you hear me? He will be truly dead. Forever.”

  Kat stood and turned her back. “If I don’t do this, then he’s dead anyway.”

  He grunted with frustration. “So tell me. How do you think to get me there? This collar may restrain me, but you have no way of moving me. That is, unless you intend to carry me across your back. I doubt even you could get me all that way without help.”

  “That's true. But I’m not alone.”

  Martok heard the sound of footsteps approaching.

  “Is he fully restrained?” To his astonishment, it was the voice of Lylinora.

  “Yes,” replied Kat. “The collar worked perfectly.”

  “Do you have the dwarf object?”

  Kat pointed off to her left. “It’s there in my pack.”

  Lylinora bent down to meet Martok’s eyes. “I am sorry it has come to this. I mean that. But you left us with no choice.”

  Martok sniffed. “You are as stupid as Katyana if you think this will do you any good. Take me to the dragons for all I care. Let Ethan cross over. I will tear his spirit to shreds and laugh as he fades into nothingness.”

  Lylinora glanced up at Kat. “Are you ready?”

  Kat removed a small silver key from her pocket. “Ready.”

  The pressure on Martok's body eased. He sat up slowly and glared at the two women. “You will pay for this,” he growled. “I swear by my ancestors. You cannot keep me like this forever.”

  Neither woman responded. With the key in her possession, Kat had complete control over his movements. Though she could not compel him to walk, he would only be able to move as far as she allowed. If they'd been alone, perhaps he could have manipulated himself into a position to get hold of the key. But with Lylinora helping her, that was unlikely. So now there was only one option remaining. And Martok knew precisely what that was.

  Go with them to the dragons…and then kill Ethan Dragonvein.

  Chapter Five

  Martok looked up at his father and smiled. He loved it when he was allowed to travel with him. On every journey he would get to see some new and magnificent wonder. The last time it had been the crystal caverns of Yulindria. And the time before that, the rushing sand river of the eastern wasteland. But this trip promised to be the most special one of all. He was now eight years old and was finally going to see what he had always dreamed of seeing. Dragons.

  “How long do they live?” he asked.

  “I’m not sure,” his father replied. “Thousands of years, I would imagine.”

  Ralmar was a great mage. In Martok’s young mind, by far the greatest mage of them all. The only thing he ever wanted was to be like him. “How do they manage to stay alive for so long?” he asked.

  Ralmar reached over and mussed his son’s hair. “With magic, of course.”

  The youngster considered this for a moment. “Does that mean you will live that long as well?”

  Ralmar laughed. “No, son. I’m afraid not. Magic doesn’t work that way.”

  “But uncle Sylas said that mages live longer than other humans. He said that's because of magic.”

  “Mages do live longer,” his father confirmed. “But that’s because of magic’s healing properties. Our bodies don’t wear out as quickly, that's all. But it can’t extend our lives in the same way it does for dragons.”

  “Why not? If it works for them, why can’t it work for us?”

  “It just doesn’t, son. And your uncle should have told you that.”

  “But if I found a way, I could make you live forever.”

  Ralmar stopped to kneel and face his son. “Listen to me, Martok. Nothing, not even the dragons, can live forever. It’s just not the way things are supposed to be. We all have our time and then it’s over.”

  Martok frowned. “But if I could find a way –”

  “No, son,” he said, cutting him short. “And I don’t want you to think about such things. It’s dangerous. Many mages have wasted their lives seeking immortality. It’s not possible.”

  He looked into his father’s eyes and recognized the sorrow that was all too frequent. “If you could have, would you have saved mother? Would you have made her live forever?”

  Ralmar sighed heavily. “If I could have saved her, I would have. But no. I would not want either of us to live forever. One day my body will grow old and this life will be spent. But that is a good thing. My passing makes room for you.”

  Martok simply couldn’t accept this. When his mother had died last winter his father had been devastated. It was over a month before he left their manor or even spoke a word. Martok had asked many times what had caused her death, but his father refused to tell him. He now looked at his parent stubbornly. “Well, I think there's plenty of room for both of us.”

  Ralmar pulled his son in, embracing him tightly. “For now there is.” After a few seconds he eased him back and held his shoulders. “Listen to me. I don’t want you worrying ov
er these things. And I especially don’t want you worrying about me. When my time comes, I will be just fine.”

  He looked at his father skeptically. “How do you know that?”

  Smiling, Ralmar stood and took hold of the youngster's hand. “You’ll see soon enough.”

  The reassuring smile did much to make Martok feel better. Many times he had overheard his uncle and his father arguing about what was appropriate magic for a boy of his age to be learning. His father had warned Sylas repeatedly that it was not his decision. The last time they spoke of this it had nearly come to blows. Martok knew it had something to do with his mother and the way she had died. But not even his uncle would tell him anything about it. All the same, it made him think very hard about if there was a special way to make the people you love live forever. Was that the secret magic his father didn’t want him to learn?

  It would take three days for them to walk all the way along the narrow trail that passed through a tangle of dense foliage. The jungle would have reclaimed the path long ago, his father explained, had it not been kept clear by the magic of the dragons. Their connection to Lumnia gave them unique powers. Even more excitingly, he then went on to tell a little of the special bond that the Dragonvein family shared with these wonderful creatures.

  After choosing a place to camp on the second night, Ralmar lit a fire and set his wards to keep away unwanted animals and other pests. This done, he retrieved a silver flute from his pack and began playing a tune that Martok remembered his mother always saying was her absolute favorite. Often she would sing along with his playing, though the words would change with each performance. Sometimes they would be about heroes and quests. Other times the story of young love. She had been a remarkable woman. And one of the best healers in all of Lumnia. Even his uncle had said so.

  A thousand people had shown up to her funeral, though Ralmar could not bring himself to attend – a fact that was widely frowned upon by many of the noble houses. They did not hold back on expressing their opinions on the matter either. It had enraged Martok to no end when they called his father weak and pathetic. Not a true nobleman. He knew better than anyone how deeply his parents had loved each other, and how great his father's sense of loss was when she passed away. It was as if a part of him had died too. That was the reason why, for a time, he hadn't been able to carry on as normal. None of those other cruel hearted mages would ever have been capable of understanding such love and devotion.