Far below, the city of Amedon appeared much as he recalled it, save for the scorched tower where waves of black soot gave evidence of his previous visit. Yet the tall tower stood stark against the mountainside. The grounds were separated from it by a deep crevice spanned by a bridge of stone.
On the grounds, wizards milled about pursuing their daily business.
Sulrad knew that these were students or junior wizards. Many of the senior wizards had been defeated in the previous attack. This attack would be simpler. Not that he was overconfident, but neither was he fearful. Soon he would have his revenge on the wizards and the dragons both.
“Make one pass to take out as many as you can. Attack from the south; they won’t see you coming if you approach below the level of the plateau. You can surprise them and destroy much before they even realize they are under attack,” he said.
“As you command.” Ril’vesi banked around the mountain and dropped into the canyons. He circled the peak, drawing closer to the ground than Sulrad would have liked, but the scattering of wizards when they rose above the plateau and streaked across the grounds was satisfying.
More than a dozen wizards had been caught unaware.
The place was a mass of flames, burning wood, and screaming wizards.
A horn blasted. Someone had the foresight to warn the remaining wizards. Good. That was what he had planned for. Summon the rest. He would dispatch them as easily as the first batch.
“Again,” Sulrad screamed at the dragon.
Once more, Ril’vesi banked and glided for the plateau that housed the wizards’ keep. The students that had not been killed in the first pass had overturned carts and were cowering behind them. Some were dousing the wood with barrels of water. Let them. Water was no match for dragon-fire.
“You can hide from me, but the dragon-fire will find you,” Sulrad muttered.
As they approached, Sulrad noticed a familiar face. It was Garlath, the wizard who had made his life miserable while he had been a student. Of course it would be Garlath who stood against him. It would be a pleasure to kill this wizard.
“There. Him.” Sulrad pointed to his nemesis.
As the mighty Ril’vesi neared the wizard, the man stretched out his arms. Violet lightning burst from his fingertips, streaking for Sulrad, Ril’vesi, and the other dragons.
For half a heartbeat, Sulrad feared that Garlath had some trick up his sleeve that he was not prepared for. Could the wizard strike at him even as he perched upon the dragon? He raised his shields, fearful that he was no match for the older wizard, but his fears were unfounded. The magic of the dragon turned whatever spell Garlath had used back on him. The violet light washed harmlessly over him.
“Fry him,” Sulrad shouted.
Ril’vesi drew a breath and shot fire.
The flames followed the violet light back toward the wizard.
Garlath glowed brilliantly, then vanished, but as he did, Sulrad felt the familiar tug of the void. He hoped he had finally seen the end of one who had been behind so many of his troubles, but he feared it might not be so. Garlath was clever, and it appeared his trouble was not over yet.
Sulrad turned his attention back to the battle. One of the young wizards stood behind an overturned cart. He extended his arms and released a spell. It was similar to the one Garlath had used, but not quite the same. This time, it penetrated the dragon’s shields and washed against Sulrad’s own magic.
What insolence. Did this youngster actually believe he would prevail where his master had failed?
“Burn him,” Sulrad said.
Once again, Ril’vesi drew a breath and released fire.
Sulrad expected to see the boy vanish just as Garlath had, but just as the fire reached him, another wizard stepped into its path. The fire washed harmlessly around this new wizard.
Sulrad heard the echo of the wizard’s communication. It was Zhimosom. He was telling Rotiaqua that the dragon-fire did not harm him. How was that? How had the wizard returned from Mistwind? Sulrad had thought Zhimosom was well out of the battle, but here he was. And he was stronger than Sulrad anticipated. And how could he stand against the dragon-fire? Was it because he and Rotiaqua were joined with him? He had almost forgotten that they were bonded in the heat of battle. What would have happened if he had managed to kill the wizard? It was almost fortunate that Zhimosom had been able to stand against the dragon-fire. Was this Ran’s way of protecting Sulrad from his own folly?
How fortunate. Sulrad had secretly worried what he would do if either of them were in Amedon. Now he knew. He didn’t have to be careful. He could unleash the full force of the dragons.
“Again,” he called out.
Once more, the three great beasts banked and dove for the city.
As the trio released fire, the square burst into flame, save for one small area where a dome of light rose to stand against this attack. In the midst of that dome were Zhimosom and Rotiaqua.
As the dragons wheeled once more, Sulrad saw the pair rush across the grounds and through the gates of the wizards’ keep. They ran down the road as if hoping to escape the carnage.
“Follow them,” Sulrad ordered the dragons. “Don’t lose sight of them.”
As the dragons approached, the pair stopped.
Zhimosom extended his arm. The power he wielded was truly awesome, but it mattered not. Sulrad was confident in his control over the dragons.
Ril’vesi drew close enough that Sulrad could make out the faces of the pair. This was it. He would not kill them. He would have the dragons take them somewhere that they could not interfere while he dispatched the remainder of the wizards.
“Capture them,” Sulrad commanded Ril’vesi.
Before Zhimosom and Rotiaqua, dragons were landing and transforming.
Sulrad peered closer. The wizard was changing them into squat humans. But why? Whatever Zhimosom was up to, he had to put a stop to it.
“I told you to seize him,” Sulrad said.
“I no longer obey your will.” Ril’vesi banked so hard, Sulrad had difficulty hanging on. The dragon switched and banked again the other way. This time, Sulrad slid from the dragon’s back.
He was falling.
Was this how he would meet his end?
Dashed on the rocks below?
The sickening feeling in his gut grew as he plummeted for the earth below, but just before he contacted the rocks, a great clawed foot grasped him and his weight returned. The dragons roared as it rushed along the ground and back into the sky.
“What are you doing?” Sulrad demanded.
“Removing you from this fight,” Ril’vesi said.
“But I command you.”
“No more. You are not the only wizard who understands dragons.”
“Release me,” Sulrad demanded.
“Here? Are you certain?” Ril’vesi roared with laughter. “If it is your command.”
Sulrad gulped back the bile that had risen in his throat. “No. It is not my command.”
49
Sulrad struggled to breathe as the mighty dragon lifted him into the air. Its leathery wings snapped with each beat as they ascended higher and higher into the sky. Before long, they crossed the beach and headed out to sea.
“Where are you taking me?” Sulrad demanded.
“Where you can do no harm,” Ril’vesi rumbled.
“Take me back. I command you.”
“No more.” Ril’vesi rested for a moment, letting the winds carry him along. Far below, the waves on the ocean smoothed out as the water turned from a deep blue to a darker green.
Sulrad struggled to look behind. The land had vanished. Where was the dragon taking him? If he intended to drop Sulrad into the ocean, he would have done it by now.
“Release me,” Sulrad demanded.
“Are you sure that’s what you wish?” Ril’vesi asked. “The water looks cold.”
“Where are you taking me? I demand to know.”
“Since you asked so nicely, I�
��m taking you to Quineshua. It’s an island far off the coast. It also has a unique position in the land. It is the only place where there is no magic. When I deliver you there, you will be without magic. While you are there, your magical stores will not recover, no matter how long you wait. You will be stranded there without magic until someone comes to rescue you. But who will know where you are?” Ril’vesi laughed, smoke curling from his nostrils to blow back across Sulrad.
“Put me down.”
“Soon enough.” Ril’vesi resumed flapping his wings as he continued on for what seemed like ages, but could not have been all that long. The sun was just starting to approach the horizon when Ril’vesi stilled his wings. The wind rushed across them, making rippling sounds as the leather flapped against it. The lurching in Sulrad’s gut ceased.
The ocean smelled like salt, but soon took on the distinct smell of rotting fish. Far ahead, a dark band appeared on the horizon. Was that Quineshua? Sulrad had read of the island on the maps in the great library. He wished he’d paid more attention to it. He had never expected to visit it and had not read anything about it. Was it true, what Ril’vesi said? Was there a place without magic? Anything was possible. Did that mean Sulrad was stuck there? That he would live out his life in this desolate place without magic? If the dragon was telling the truth, he could not simply wait it out until his magic recovered and then access the void. He would be truly stuck. He had to find a way to defeat the dragon, to steal its magic before it could get away.
Sulrad drew his sky iron knife and placed the blade between his teeth. He wanted it handy when Ril’vesi released him. He would only have one chance to act, and he would have to act fast. If the dragon had even an inkling of what he had planned, the beast would, no doubt, drop him from the sky just to be safe.
Sulrad relaxed, hoping the dragon would take it for a sign that he had acquiesced and lower its guard. He carefully reached for the magic inside the charm. It was depleted but not exhausted. What had Zhimosom and Rotiaqua done to wrest control away from him, and how could he restore it? He let the smallest bit of magic quest toward the dragon. The beast was strong, one of the leaders of the clan second only to the clan mother. It had come at his behest, opening the veil and descending even as it struggled against Sulrad’s call. So what had changed?
When Sulrad probed deeper, the dragon clenched him tighter. Had it sensed his probing?
“Do you wish me to drop you?” Ril’vesi rumbled.
Sulrad withdrew his magic, but just as he recalled it, he sensed something he had not expected. There was the slightest impression of another. Had the dragon somehow changed form? The spell worked on the form of the dragon and not its essence. He carefully looked again, tempering his question lest the dragon realize what he was up to.
Sure enough, Sulrad received the distinct impression of a short, squat, and powerful man. The man retained much of the characteristics of the dragon. His skin was brick red and covered in scales much like a snake. He was bald and muscled. So that was it. That was how they had done it.
Sulrad muttered a curse under his breath but quickly recovered his calm. Now that he knew what had been done, he had a chance to recover his control.
Before Sulrad could try to recast the spell, the ocean beneath his feet vanished to be replaced by rocky crags with salty waves crashing against them. They sailed over the jagged cliffs and onto a grassy plain.
The dragon snapped its wings and settled to the ground, releasing Sulrad as it did.
“Before I go, I will gift you just as I gifted the other wizard. I will drain your magic and leave you stranded here.”
Ril’vesi drew a breath.
“Ne quoquam ensuregatis,” Sulrad intoned. This time, he envisioned not only the image of the dragon, but that of the short, squat man he had sensed.
Ril’vesi froze.
“Lower your head,” Sulrad instructed.
Ril’vesi lowered his head, the massive jaws coming to rest on the grass half a span from Sulrad.
“That’s better. So you thought to escape my control. Well, I’ll show you.”
Sulrad approached the great scaled neck of the dragon. This one was larger than the last dragon Sulrad had killed. Ril’vesi would provide enough magic to replenish his dwindling stores and allow Sulrad to access the void and return to Amedon. He would show those wizards.
Lifting one of the scales, Sulrad slid his knife into the tender flesh of the dragon. At first, nothing happened. The dragon was so massive, his blood ran deep beneath layers of muscle.
Sulrad probed with his knife, shoving it to the hilt into the dragon’s flesh. He must have found a vein, because blood welled around the blade and splashed at his feet.
“Veni ad me,” Sulrad called to the magic.
It leaped from the dragon and surged to Sulrad. For a moment, he was tempted to take the dragon’s magic into him, but he knew that it would overwhelm him. He directed it to the charm, watching as the magic soaked into the brilliant crystal it carried.
As had happened the last time Sulrad took a dragon’s magic, the power swirled around the great beast. Vermillion and gold sparks rushed in complex patterns and a noise arose that was almost deafening. Soon the charm would be full. Sulrad could use the magic to power his return to Amedon, where he could finish off the dragons and the wizards both. Wouldn’t they be surprised to see him? But even as the dragon lay dying, a shimmer appeared in the air beside it.
Sulrad stepped back.
How could it be? How had they found him? How could a wizard have opened the void across leagues of ocean? Sulrad himself would have been hard pressed to do it, save he had the power of the dragon to augment his own.
The air shimmered and out stepped Zhimosom.
The wizard immediately dropped to his knees beside the dragon. “Ril’vesi,” he said. “What happened?”
“You can’t save him,” Sulrad said. As he spoke, the last of the dragon’s magic entered the charm. The crystal emitted a pulse of light and grew dark.
Zhimosom grabbed for the charm.
Sulrad stepped back, swinging the sky iron blade at the young wizard, opening a gash in the young man’s arm. Blood dripped from his arm and mixed with that of the dragon.
“I’ll take your magic, too.” Sulrad advanced toward Zhimosom. “I’ll keep it in the charm. That way, the sorceress will still be mine, but you will be gone.”
Sulrad reached for Zhimosom’s magic. He could feel it separate from the wizard the way it had from the dragon, only the wizard still lived. That was key, he was convinced. If he let Zhimosom live but took his magic, Rotiaqua would live and so would Sulrad.
The wizard fought back, but he was weak. No doubt the travel spell that had allowed him to come to Quineshua had consumed nearly all his magic.
“That’s it, just a little more.” Sulrad bent over Zhimosom with the knife, but as he did, he noticed that not only was Zhimosom’s magic flowing into the charm, but the charm was drawing power from Sulrad. That was not what he expected. He paused. Perhaps this was not the way.
Zhimosom reached out for the charm once again.
Before Sulrad could draw back, the young wizard’s fingers had closed around it. For half a heartbeat, Sulrad worried that perhaps he had been outsmarted, but the charm was vibrating as the wizard yanked at it.
What was happening?
Sulrad twisted to escape, but Zhimosom held on. Sulrad tripped and tumbled to the ground. He was no fighter, but he had learned his lessons well back in Amedon. He stretched his legs out and clamped them around his opponent.
Zhimosom rolled from side to side and arched his back. He too, it seemed, knew something about fighting, but he was untrained, wild. Still, it was enough. He separated himself from Sulrad and got to his knees.
Sulrad stepped closer.
Ready to strike.
He would kill the wizard and take his magic. There was no other way.
But before he could, the dragon rumbled. It was still alive. “Take
my magic. I give it to you.”
How had the beast retained some of his magic? Sulrad had thought him dead and of no further consequence, but he was wrong. The dragon was still alive and very much a threat. Its magic flowed into Zhimosom as quickly as it had flowed into the charm.
Sulrad felt the wizard’s shields rise.
“Use my magic. Save my people from this madman.”
Sulrad turned to the dragon, intent on delivering the death blow, but he was too late. The mighty dragon heaved and fell silent as his dying breath escaped him.
Zhimosom turned to Sulrad and reached out his hand. “Veni ad me.”
The charm leaped from Sulrad’s chest, pulling at the chain that secured it in place. It shuddered slightly, gave a wiggle, and settled back in place. Zhimosom’s plan to steal it had failed, but why was he attempting to take the charm?
“You didn’t think it was going to be that easy, did you?” Sulrad raised the knife.
Zhimosom twitched, and the knife flew from Sulrad’s hand.
How had he done that?
Sulrad lunged at him, grabbing Zhimosom’s injured arm. The last time Sulrad had fought him, Zhimosom had been little more than a boy. Now he was strong. Stronger than Sulrad.
Zhimosom twisted from Sulrad’s grip and grasped at Sulrad’s robe, dragging him to the ground once more.
The momentum of the roll carried Zhimosom on top of Sulrad. He clung there, arm waving in the air, the sunlight glinting from the knife. Was he going to strike? Had he decided to die with Sulrad rather than let him live?
The knife flashed toward Sulrad’s throat, pausing at it rested against his flesh.
Sulrad screamed, “Please. I’ll let you have it.”
“Let me have what?” Zhimosom demanded.
“The charm. You can command the dragons.” Better to give up and live than to die right here.
Zhimosom’s face went red.
For a moment, Sulrad thought he was in distress, but he lashed out and grasped Sulrad’s throat, squeezing it.
Sulrad gasped for breath.
Just as the darkness covered Sulrad, Zhimosom released his grasp.
Dragon Lord: An Epic Fantasy Saga (Origins Book 2) Page 31
