The Harrowing Path

by Cleave Bourbon

  “Outside. I doubt they can hear what is happening inside these thick walls.”

  Ianthill closed his eyes briefly and called out to Devyn with his mind. “He should hear that!” Ianthill exclaimed as he dodged an Enforcer blade. “Go for Drakkius, if you can, Gondrial, but be careful. I don’t think he is what he seems.”

  Gondrial nodded and cut his way through attacking men to get at Drakkius. Gondrial saw that Yarbrille was locked in combat with Drakkius and appeared to be winning. Maybe he had redemption in mind, or perhaps he just wanted to be on the side of the victors.

  Ianthill put his hand on Trayore’s wound and said a light incantation: “Tay ori noe uncanta.” The wound closed up but was still bruised. “That should hold you until you receive cleric healing, old friend.”

  “Go on, Ianthill, stop that madman,” Trayore said, spitting blood.

  Ianthill nodded as he stood up, pulling Elanadil, sword of fire, from midair. He pointed the blade and a burst of reddish-orange flame shot from it, engulfing Drakkius as he dove to avoid the blast. At the same moment, Yarbrille’s blade cut between Drakkius’s crimson breastplate and his armpit. Gondrial thrust forward as well but was knocked clear by the blade of an Enforcer. Unflinching from his obvious pain, Drakkius jumped to his feet and cleft Yarbrille’s blade in two with one terrible blow. Stunned, Yarbrille awkwardly thrust his shard forward, and Drakkius disarmed him, thrusting his own blade and just missing Yarbrille’s side. Gondrial recovered his footing and lunged forward, slicing Drakkius’s forearm. Drakkius retaliated with a fist square into Gondrial’s face. Ianthill again used Elanadil, and a bolt of flame encompassed the blade. He thrust the fire at Drakkius, who absorbed it and sent it back at him. Ianthill dove for cover and the flames engulfed a nearby Enforcer. Cleared of his attackers, Drakkius held his sword high and uttered a speech as dark as the night sky. The building rumbled and shook, causing the glass dome to shatter. Massive slabs of stone ceiling crumbed down to the chamber floor. The blade of Drakkius’ sword seemed to melt into his forearm as his body began to grow and burst out of his leather armor. Black scales formed over his skin and the metal of the blade became claws. Blackened, oily smoke rose forth from orange and yellow flames leaping from Drakkius’ scaly maw. Gondrial backed away from the forming dragon as fast as he could.

  More Enforcers entered the fray from the bowels of the keep, and Gondrial moaned. “Not more of them.” Gondrial heard some commotion toward the rear of the chamber, and when he looked, his spirits perked up some. Bren and Kelle had entered the rear of the chamber, swinging their dragon fangs. Bodies were dropping left and right in their path.

  “Attack all those wearing black robes. As far as I am concerned, they are all enemies,” Ianthill shouted. “Stay clear of that dragon!”

  Bren cut down two or three black-robed men at a time with his deadly dragon fang. Kelle wielded her dragon fang and claw with some skill, but it was evident she was a novice. Bren would kill her foe in between his own swings, which tended to anger her.

  After she had seen Bren and Kelle arrive, Kimala sneaked to where she had seen Bren, Enowene, and Kelle leave their packs. She frantically searched them, and after a moment, she found what she was looking for: the green statuette. She shrieked with glee before she made her way through the tangle of bodies back to where Drakkius was burning men with dragon fire. “The statuette!” she shouted, throwing it toward Drakkius. It tinged and pinged as it skittered across the marble floor coming to rest before the huge claw of Drakkius. Ianthill watched in horror as Drakkius focused his mind on it. Ianthill used Elanadil, but Drakkius easily avoided the blast with a wave of his claw. The green statuette burst with light at Drakkius’s incantation. The light from the statuette entered him. He sneered wickedly at Ianthill and lifted his head into the air bellowing out a roar of triumph.

  “What was that all about?” Gondrial asked Ianthill as he avoided the blade of an Enforcer.

  “I think he just released essence trapped in the statuette,” Ianthill responded.

  OUTSIDE OF CALANBROUGH, and oblivious to the battle going on two hundred yards away in Brightonhold Keep, Devyn sat on a bench with Vesperin. Rennon was sitting on a bench three yards opposite them, keeping his distance.

  Since Devyn had made his decision to become a wielder, Vesperin was the only friend around from Brookhaven who would still speak to him, but he rarely had much more to say except for polite conversation. A nagging whisper flooded Devyn’s mind and he felt dizzy for a moment, but the feeling passed.

  “Well, what is it?” Vesperin asked Devyn. “You keep fidgeting and shaking your head. It’s annoying.”

  “Sorry, I’m hearing someone call my name. My imagination is playing tricks on me.”

  Vesperin took out his long clay pipe and began to pack it with tabac. “It’s annoying at any rate.” He looked to the entrance to Brightonhold Keep across the way. “What is keeping Gondrial and the Defenders? It should have been easy for them to go in, get her, and exit. The Defenders outnumber the Enforcers here two to one.”

  “You think we should go in and find out? They might have run into unexpected trouble.”

  “You heard Gondrial. He said under no circumstances are we to leave this spot.”

  At that moment Rennon bolted for Brightonhold Keep in full sprint. Vesperin and Devyn looked at each other with puzzlement until they heard the sound of tremendous wings beating behind them. Vesperin’s pipe fell from his lips as he rose to see what the noise was, and he stumbled backward. Two enormous black dragons flew directly toward them.

  “Run,” Devyn yelled, “to the keep!”

  Rennon managed to get the doors open and was beginning to shut them again when Vesperin and Devyn reached them. Inside the keep, the three could hear the sounds of battle.

  Drawing their weapons, they ran to the source of the noise. The floor shook, and the reverberation of crumbling stone knocked Devyn into a nearby wall. Vesperin pushed his way through the two mammoth wooden doors into the chamber. Devyn saw the roof had been torn away and bodies were covering the stone floor. The two dragons had flown in and were burning sections of the room while the men left alive were scrambling for cover. The dragons could fill the entire room full of fire but they were holding back for some reason. A man in red armor and a tattered red cloak jumped from a balcony onto the back of one of the dragons. Ianthill and Gondrial were behind a stone pillar on the left of the immense chamber. Vesperin made his way to nearby wounded despite the flames, and Rennon took cover behind the nearest stone pillar to the door.

  Devyn faltered as he realized a third dragon had joined in the fight; its scales were greenish black. One of the black dragons had seen Devyn in the doorway and was heading for him. Devyn stood paralyzed. He tried but could not shake the fear of the strafing dragon bearing down on him.

  The other black dragon circled around near Gondrial’s position.

  “Gondrial, watch out, the dragon is circling!” Ianthill shouted. The other dragon also spotted Devyn standing in the doorway, and it flashed its long sharp fangs in satisfaction as it dived for him. “Get out of the way, boy!” Ianthill shouted at Devyn, but Devyn could not bring himself to move. In what seemed like minutes, Devyn finally lifted his sword. The dragons immediately broke off their attack circling back the way they came.

  Ianthill stepped out from behind the pillar, “It’s your sword. They are afraid of Dranmalin!”

  Devyn held up his sword. Dranmalin meant dragon hammer.

  In a booming voice the dragon with the rider spoke, “Get the elf wielder! Destroy him.”

  Ianthill twisted around to face the other two dragons before he realized he was too far from the pillars to run to safety. Gondrial leaped out from behind the protection of the stone, trying to aid his master, but it was too late; all three dragons let loose their fiery breath. Ianthill held up his staff and blocked the first two, but the third burned him. Devyn stared horrified, trying to think of what to do. He watched helplessly as Ianthill r
olled out from under the flames with his crimson robes on fire. He started drawing essence. At first, the lack of essence from his surroundings made him falter then he looked at Dranmalin. it glowed with golden light. He began to draw essence from it and the sword sang with a high-pitched whine. He could barely hear it, but the dragons came crashing out of the sky to the floor.

  Ianthill turned to look at him. “Whatever you are doing, keep it up, boy!”

  Gondrial intercepted Devyn and made him stop. “No don’t keep it up. Once those dragons regroup, they will want to get to you first and take you out of battle.”

  The dragons retook flight, and increased their combined efforts, spraying intense blue, orange, and red flames onto Ianthill as he rolled away. Devyn was impressed as the wizard stood fast, pushing back the flames. Casting the staff aside, Ianthill held his hands up high and a column of black flames leaped from his fingertips. One of the dragons burst into a horrible, deafening scream as its charred remains crashed to the floor in a smoldering heap. The keep groaned and crumbled, and Devyn shrank away, remembering the terrible cost of using blackfire. In an instant of revelation, Devyn swiftly sprang from his crouched position to grasp the staff Ianthill had cast aside, intending to help him with it. Ianthill looked visibly shaken by his experience, and he and Devyn exchanged a long glance, which Devyn knew was only seconds. Ianthill was vulnerable to the attacking dragons. The old wielder’s expression went dark, and Devyn knew what was about to happen. Ianthill held up his hand, and Devyn felt a strange sensation as he was pushed back by an unseen force to the safety of a nearby pillar. Devyn recovered quickly and was about to charge again to Ianthill’s aid when he realized Sylvalora was standing next to him, holding him back. She smiled. “I choose you, Devyn. You must live.”

  Devyn stared at her, confused for a moment. “You choose me for what?” he asked, but she did not answer.

  Infuriated, the two remaining dragons focused on Ianthill.

  Devyn watched in awe as Sylvalora began to shimmer and transform. Silver wings sprang from her shoulder blades, and her face elongated into a maw. Her emerald green eyes flashed as her great silver wings stirred the air, and she took flight, knocking Devyn to the ground. The two remaining dragons swooped down on Ianthill, striking him, flames burning him relentlessly.

  “no!” Gondrial screamed as he leaped onto one of the dragon’s path. He held out his hands and more of the damaged ceiling fell and crumbled as blackfire engulfed the green dragon with deadly lightless flame. Some of the black flame recoiled and smote Gondrial. Pieces of stone from the ceiling of the keep exploded downward as the dragon’s tail smashed a supporting stone pillar, and parts of it crashed into the already weakened wall. Unlike Ianthill, Gondrial’s blackfire had failed to stop the dragon completely. Gondrial lay motionless on the floor of the trembling chamber.

  Devyn stepped out from the safety of the pillar. He used Dranmalin to focus on the dragon. He knew it was a magical creature; surely it teamed with essence. He dropped the staff and held Dranmalin with both hands. He started drawing in essence through his sword from the dragon. Its breath stopped and it hit the floor. He kept drawing in essence until he couldn’t hold it anymore.

  “Release it! Release it, boy! Ianthill shouted. “Before it kills you.”

  Devyn felt his hands burning on the hilt of Dranmalin, which was in flames. Its blade was red as molten metal. His eyes glowed red, and red was all he could see. The dragon took to flight getting as far away as it could as fast as it could. The only target Devyn could see remaining nearby was the Enforcers. He felt the pouch with the three stones he got at Cedar Falls burning into his side. He knew he should release the essence, but the power felt too good. He just needed to draw a little more, He thought. Finally, he managed to say the word release and the flames burst forth from Dranmalin in a multitude of colors. Every remaining Enforcer threw back his head no matter where he stood in the keep. Their eyes burned out of their sockets as they screamed to the sky, every one of them! Flames issued forth in a blue and orange stream from their mouths and their heads caught fire. They all fell to the floor in unison. Devyn fell to the floor as well, his hands smoldering, but he clung to Dranmalin. Next, he reached for the three stones. They had been charged with magic. He grasped them in his hand, and they burned him. He pointed Dranmalin at Drakkius and released. The great dragon reverted back onto a more human form, but not completely. Devyn could see he was trying desperately to change back into a dragon, but he couldn’t. Drakkius turned and ran for one of the regrouping dragons. Devyn bounded into a run. He felt rejuvenated, energized!

  At the far end of the room, he saw Drakkius mount the back of the dragon and they both immediately began to attack the Silver Drake. The dragon was breathing flames at her. Devyn realized they were trying to capture her so they could fly off. He increased his sprint; the room seemed so much more prominent all the sudden. The Silver Drake spun around and flew directly into the dragon flames. She sent her body up with a mighty thrust of her silvery wings. Her eyes flashed ruby red as she cast a luminous spell. Drakkius tried to rein in his dragon. He abruptly turned on her. “Join me, Silver Drake!” Drakkius reached inside a bag at his side and pulled out the green statuette. The Silver Drake shrieked and spit blue fire at Drakkius and his dragon, but Drakkius fended off the flames and managed to cast his spell. The Silver Drake shrank into a small silver statue that Drakkius immediately summoned to him with his free hand. A silvery blue light from the Silver Drake entered the statuette. He put the figurine into a bag he carried at his side and clasped the Silver Drake in his hands, laughing shrilly. He reined in his dragon. Devyn leaped with Dranmalin out before him. The sword thrust into Drakkius’ chest with ease causing him to drop both the bag and the Silver Drake. Drakkius and Devyn slid off the dragon’s back together. Devyn saw the surprise in Drakkius’ eyes. One of the Enforcers picked up the statue and Silver Drake and Devyn watched with amazement as a blue mist left Drakkius and entered the Enforcer. Devyn pulled Dranmalin out of Drakkius and ran after the Enforcer who was now running for the dragon. The Enforcer stopped and turned on Devyn. Two unnatural eyes peered at him from beneath the dark hood and Devyn froze. The Enforcer mounted the dragon and took to the skies. Whatever spell he had used on Devyn melted away as he gained altitude.

  Shaking off his stun, Devyn searched for the final dragon. He knew the threat wasn’t over yet. He soon found the remaining black dragon had fixed its eyes on the still vulnerable Ianthill as he lay moaning on the chamber floor. There was a moment when the dragon met Ianthill’s gaze, eye to eye, and then it dove.

  Devyn clenched his fists, trying to draw essence, but he could not summon it fast enough. He looked at Dranmalin and its glow was gone. He was spent as far as essence was concerned. Just as he was trying to get up to go to Ianthill’s aid, he caught the glimpse of someone in a blue robe streak past him out of the corner of his eye. He looked up to see a man with a hood over his face, standing over Ianthill. Concerned, Devyn tried to get up again. He had to do something. The robed man turned to meet his gaze, and Devyn stopped short when he saw the man’s face. Two ice blue eyes stared at him and he froze, this time in disbelief. The man in blue put his hand on Ianthill’s shoulder. “I am here, brother.”

  “Morgoran!” Ianthill said. “It cannot be.”

  “Aye, Ianthill, I am here,” Morgoran repeated as he held up his dark wood staff with his right hand toward the attacking dragon and removed his hood with his left. His blue eyes sparkled with life as the light from his staff struck the creature. It flew down low and then it climbed higher into the sky. Morgoran lifted his left hand high and let loose a terrible thunder that drove the dragon away, and it flew off into the distance.

  Morgoran reached down to Ianthill and pulled him to his feet. Ianthill embraced his old friend and stared into his familiar blue eyes. “Your eyes!” Ianthill marveled.

  “The curse has been lifted. The Silver Drake lifted it when she last came to the vale. Forgive my tardine
ss; it took me some time to recover.”

  “I am pleased to see you, my brother,” Ianthill said.

  “Naturally you are, old fool, I just saved your skin. You have grown careless. You waited too long to join the fight. We have some work to do with you still.”

  “I hope you are jesting. You just got here and shooed away one dragon.”

  “Of course I am brother, have you forgotten my sense of humor?”

  Ianthill’s expression soured. “Brother, I think I know what Drakkius released from that green statuette.”

  “Toborne!” Morgoran said. “I already know.” He scanned the chamber. “Where is Sylvalora?”

  “With Drakkius. He captured her.”

  “No, I killed Drakkius. An Enforcer flew off on a dragon with her.” Devyn said.

  Morgoran turned red with anger. “Who is this impetuous boy?”

  Ianthill put his hand on Morgoran’s shoulder. “It’s all right. He is a descendant of the house Arden.”

  Morgoran stared down at Devyn. “I hope you live up to your destiny, boy.” He helped Ianthill to his feet. “Toborne has taken the Silver Drake, which means he will take The Blight.”

  “Toborne? I thought he was dead,” Devyn said.

  “Nay, you have been carrying him around with you ever since you left Cedar Falls.” Morgoran said acidly. A feeling of shame crept up in Devyn and he looked off at Kelle, who was busy helping with wounded. “He now dwells within the shell of that Enforcer you let escape. Drakkius is no more; he has been sacrificed to Toborne, thanks to you boy.”

  “Don’t be so hard on the boy, brother; he was only trying to help. He acted bravely.” Ianthill leaned on his staff as soon as Morgoran retrieved it for him. “The elven statuette now carries the captured essence of the Silver Drake. Toborne will use the magic of the Silver Drake against us.” Ianthill said.

  Devyn groaned. “Then Symboria and The Blight are lost.”