The Blood Stone
Page 3
Tozgan had already cranked the crossbow, the iron bolt ready to fire. Darlonn flanked him and held his sword at the ready.
The dragon roared overhead, the sound making Lailoken’s adrenaline flow. He lived for these moments. No matter the size or variety, he relished the chance to take down the great flying beasts.
Over the centuries, Tregaron had grown a reputation as a dragon wasteland, and it wasn’t an unfounded accusation. The needs of the Magus overruled the desire to protect the creatures. Their ability to shift into human form was an awful consequence of their attempt to live in the land, though halflings were mercilessly executed to stop their blood from mixing. In the south, Lailoken heard tales of griffons, the half lion, half dragon breeds that roamed freely along Rowyth’s southern shores.
The dragon swirled in the sky, flying high and tumbling down toward the mountain to skim past the men and unleash its acidic attack. It belched an immense cloud as it flew by. The men held to their positions, the acid narrowly missing Driano.
Jor and Darlonn were poised with their crossbowmen, ready to penetrate the thick dragon scales.
“Be ready for the next pass. Do not flinch nor waiver. Stay resolute. Do you understand?”
Jor rolled her eyes. Lailoken smirked. He knew how he sounded, but the hunt was on and the thrill overcame him.
“We shall have our trophy this day!” Lailoken shouted.
Tozgan called, “Huzzah! Let’s take him from the skies and drench our stones in his blood!”
The Onyx screeched across the sky, trailing behind a cloud of acid.
Darlonn shouted. “Fire now, you bleeding idiot!” Tozgan let loose an iron bolt that went wide of the dragon. “What kind of shot was that? Give it here!”
Lailoken smiled, knowing Darlonn’s face was flaming red.
“Now! Fire now!” Jor called. Ori found the mark, the iron bolt piercing the dragon’s leg. It roared loudly, acid arcing across the blue sky.
“Again! Again!” Lailoken called.
Another bolt flew from Darlonn’s direction, this time clipping the dragon’s ribs.
The dragon bellowed a piercing howl and thrashed its head back and forth, emitting a wild spray of acid from its open maw. It fell to the ground in a howling heap.
“Hurry! We have it now!” Lailoken called out. The rush of adrenaline pushed him toward his prey, the scourge of Rowyth.
The slayers yelled as they ran at the felled beast. Swords were raised with victorious shouts. Then as they closed in on the Onyx, it turned toward them and narrowed its large black eyes. It let out a fierce roar and covered the ground with acid.
Darlonn was too eager. He raced for the dragon but didn’t pay heed and ran through the acid, his leather boots smoking as the dangerous liquid seeped into them. He yelled but to his credit, continued forward toward their prize.
“Darlonn!” Jor shouted.
“You will die, dragon!” she shouted.
“Go around! The beast is yet to die, and we still have life within our lungs!” Lailoken shouted.
Ori called to Tozgan, “Get your short sword! Come around the acid!”
Driano cast the enchantment on the group again, though his spell was weak with so many. “Be careful! You may not be protected!” he cried.
With their swords raised to strike, the crossbowmen raced to outflank the pool of acid. Driano and Belthos stood back, afraid to get close to the dragon until it was dead. Other than cover the slayers in a spell of protection, they were useless in the hunt.
Jor screamed. Lailoken crouched clutching his sword, anger fueling him. It was time.
On the other side of the acidic pool, Darlonn worked his way out of his boots, their heels completely gone and smoking. He took up his sword and rushed barefoot at the dragon wailing on the ground.
In the middle of the acid, a small opening appeared as though it were retreating into the ground. “There,” Lailoken growled, pointing his sword. Jor ran for the opening, Lailoken at her heel.
The dragon roared and belched acid at Ori and Tozgan. They were too close and almost got caught in the deadly bile.
Jor lunged at the dragon, catching it in the chest with her sword. The dragon howled and grasped Jor with its front legs. She screamed in pain.
“Let go of me!” she yelled, beating on the powerful claws. It opened its mouth, ready to devour her in one bite.
“No!” Lailoken shouted, unable to save his friend. The Onyx was winning, tearing apart the slayers.
Before it ended Jor’s life, Tozgan fired a bolt from his crossbow, the iron bolt stabbing its soft mouth through the back of its neck. Jor freed herself while the dragon struggled to remove the bolt in its throat.
Lailoken seethed as he faced the dragon. “You will never escape me,” he growled. The dragon frantically pulled at the bolt as Jor’s sword swung with each movement. The blade and bolt both ran deep and the dragon struggled to remove them, its claws having difficulty grasping the handle.
“You’ve lost this day. You will die by my blade!” Lailoken hissed.
The dragon breathed acid, creating a wretched pool around the two of them. Lailoken held steady, fear long ago turning to resolve as he awaited his move.
The Onyx narrowed its eyes and moved its head closer to Lailoken.
Slayer, it said, to Lailoken’s astonishment. The voice was in his head, an old trick many used before they died. Do you not recognize me? Its voice was slick and evil.
“Your words mean nothing to me! Your death is all I require!” he shouted back.
Slayer, you know so little. Its speech was slow and drawn out, each word emphasized. What you presume to be a danger is far from the truth. Seek inside yourself. Do you see it? Can you feel it gnawing at your soul?
“I feel nothing but anger. Your kind deserves the sword.”
The dragon reared its head and looked down on Lailoken. He’d faced dragons before and never felt as sure of his abilities as he had at that moment. No matter what this Onyx did or said, he would find a way to kill it.
I sense something about you, Slayer, something weak. It snapped its jaws at him, feigning an attack. Lailoken drew his sword close in a defensive stance.
Jor rolled to the side, looking around for something to attack it with. Darlonn had shifted to the far right near Tozgan, shouting words Lailoken didn’t understand.
“You will know the meaning of weak when I slit your throat and let you bleed out. I will bathe in your blood and rip out your innards, I will feed them to my dogs. You will die by my hand.”
The Onyx reared his head back. Lailoken heard maniacal laughter in his mind. It was a deep, booming laugh that echoed loudly.
Slayer, it began in its long, drawn-out way. You talk a lot for such a weak man. You don’t even have the blood of the dragon within you, yet you speak with our power. You aren’t blessed with a parent from my line.
“Abominations, those vile halflings are! None live here amongst us! Those horrible creatures stay away from our lands, as you should have.” Lailoken ran at the dragon, raising his sword high. The dragon inhaled and blew out small clouds of acid on either side of Lailoken, singeing his arm hairs.
Take another step, and I will end you, the dragon roared in his mind.
Lailoken hesitated. The dragon finally pulled the sword from its chest and tossed it on the ground. Dark blood oozed from the wound. It worked the bolt free, spitting it at Jor, and striking her leg.
I sense you, Slayer. I sense your past. I sense your fears. Why are you afraid of the halflings? They are but a better version of you. Fused my with race, they’re superior to you in every way. What causes your fear?
“They are a disgusting mix of things that should never be! When your kind chose to change…to transform into our likeness to steal our women and seduce our men, you changed everything. It’s unnatural. It’s against all that Menos stands for. It sickens me to think of such evil.” He peered around the dragon, hoping to see Darlonn. “And that is why you must
die!”
The dragon extended his immense wings, one of them torn slightly from the crossbow bolt. Lailoken was bathed in shade.
Today is not the day I allow a human to take my life; especially not one so ignorant of his past. It breathed acid at Lailoken, blocking him from advancing, then roared and dove to the sky, flapping its large leathery wings. In a downdraft of air, it rose high into the sky. It circled a few times, peering down at Lailoken.
“Come fight me! Don’t fly away like a coward!” Lailoken screamed at it.
It flew to the south, disappearing beyond the mountains.
The slayers stood in stunned silence, finally broken by Driano.
“You call yourselves slayers? How could you let the dragon escape? In all my years, I’ve never seen such terrible hunting. I’ve never—”
“You’ve never what?” Lailoken asked. His body ached, and his head hurt. He’d lost a dragon before, but it had been a long, long time.
“We need that blood! Without it, we don’t have the power of the stones!”
“I’ll show you what those stones can do!” Jor said. She stood next to Lailoken, brushed her hair back from her face, and held the pommel of her sword.
Belthos gasped. Lailoken thought the boy was going to speak, but he covered his mouth with his hand to prevent an unwanted smack to the head.
“Touch me, and I’ll see you all hanged.”
“That means you’d leave alive, and that won’t happen,” Jor said.
“If you mean to threaten me with your amazing killing skills, I’ve yet to be impressed. If what I just witnessed is any indication, I think I’ll be fine.”
Jor growled, unsheathing her sword. “I’ll split you in two!”
As much as Lailoken wanted to see the fat rat Driano carved in half, he had to stop the tension.
“Jor, not now,” he said, placing a hand on her shoulder. Darlonn approached, holding his hands up to stop Jor.
“He’s not worth it. When we get back to Kulketh, we’ll see about getting another Magus to accompany us. This one doesn’t deserve your time,” Darlonn said.
Jor’s eyes narrowed. She shook her head and walked away, mumbling under her breath.
“Gather our things. It’s time we left,” Lailoken commanded. The crossbowmen scoured the camp for lost or stray iron bolts and packed up. Belthos finished with the Magus’s items and hoisted the immense bag on his back. Darlonn convinced Jor to collect her things and the two of them talked alone for quite a while. She calmed down, though Lailoken understood her rage, and under most circumstances, he would’ve been fine with her anger. However, they had to be careful with the Order. They could be terrors to work with.
CHAPTER
Six
Soon after the dragon’s escape, the camp was cleared and the party worked their way back down the mountain over treacherous passes and narrow ledges. Weariness made them move slowly and Driano’s insistence on stopping for a break didn’t help. As twilight approached, they’d only made it halfway down.
They were too far from the village in the valley below to make it safely by nightfall. Under an outward-facing ledge, Lailoken spotted flat ground that was perfect for hiding overnight. “Over there,” he pointed. “We’ll rest and continue in the morning.”
“I hoped you’d see reason,” Driano grumbled.
“You best hope he doesn’t see my sword in your belly,” Jor said as she walked past him, following Lailoken.
Lailoken’s mind and body were weary, the fight and search having consumed much of his strength. Exhausted, he sat under the ledge and leaned against the far wall. Jor sat next to him, smiling, and lay down on the hard ground. Darlonn reclined on the other side of Jor, and Ori and Tozgan huddled close to each other nearby. Driano directed Belthos to build him a soft place to rest and the young novice tore through his bag looking for blankets and other items to give the Magus rest. Lailoken shook his head and leaned back, the cold stone comforting him. Exhausted, he soon fell asleep.
Sometime in the night, a dream came to him.
A brightly shining dragon raced across the sky, shimmering and gold. A horrid, black dragon with torn and shredded wings and eyes of smoke trailed behind it. The hideous thing reminded him of death. It devoured trees and fields as it pursued the golden dragon. Nothing was left in its wake but a black void, as though it destroyed creation, turning it all to nothing. Lailoken screamed, though not a sound came from him.
Suddenly, the golden dragon spun on the evil one, and poised to attack. The smoky-eyed black thing sped across the darkening sky and the two tangled in the air, gold and black intertwined in the throes of death. The golden dragon screamed a horrible cry of pain as the smoky-eyed dragon tore into its neck. Black cracked lines radiated outwards from the bite, streaking the brilliant gold. The golden scales became an ashy gray and the dragon was transformed into a similar black creature with smoky eyes. The pair turned their attention to the surrounding hillside and voraciously attacked everything in their path, leaving little untouched.
Lailoken woke in a cold sweat, startled and alarmed. What are these dreams? he thought. What does this mean? He looked out over the valley below, at the peaks rising through the clouds and the moonlight bouncing off them. It was a beautiful sight, but one he knew concealed danger. He remained awake for the rest of the night, his mind returning to the nightmare and the smoky-eyed dragon.
At dawn’s bright light, he and the other slayers set off down the mountain toward the village and hopefully home.
Halfway down, Darlonn heard the unmistakable sound of a dragon roaring in the sky. He crouched, scanning the morning sky for the beast. Then he saw it. “The Onyx!” he called. The dragon had returned. “Cowardly thing! Now it’s time to taste death!”
The Onyx soared in the sky, looping in on itself; twisting, and forcing acid from its mouth.
“Death comes for you!” Lailoken yelled. Though it was far away, the dragon turned toward them and dove at them. It streaked across the sky preceded by the acidic vapors it belched. Lailoken unsheathed his sword from his back and held it before him. “One of us will die this day,” he said, narrowing his eyes, preparing to fight. Ori and Tozgan struggled to prepare their crossbows. Jor and Darlonn took position next to Lailoken, all three brandishing their swords. Driano and Belthos scurried away under a nearby tree.
“Driano, do your thing!” Lailoken called. The Magus summoned his power and cast enchantment over the slayers to protect them from the dragon’s acid.
The dragon pulled up within reach of them and shot high in the air. It rolled and dove to their right, disappearing.
“Coward!” Jor called, returning her sword and charging toward where the dragon vanished. Lailoken and Darlonn followed, crossing the difficult, rocky terrain and narrow ledges, scanning for the beast. Lailoken looked over his shoulder at the rest of the group. The crossbowmen stumbled and the Magus was nowhere to be found. In the distance, they saw an enormous black hole.
“A cave,” he said. “We’ve got you now.”
They approached the opening carefully, their swords drawn in preparation of a fight. Ori and Tozgan were at their heels, crossbows cranked and bolts in place. The wind picked up, sending a chill running through Lailoken despite his thick fur coverings. “Menos, be with us now. Grant us vengeance on this dragon.”
As they crept closer to the cave’s mouth, it was eerily quiet. Lailoken thought it unnatural for something so large as the Onyx to be so still and silent. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. The sword felt heavy in his hands. Something wasn’t right.
“I enter now to slay or be slain. It is no longer a matter of who, but when.” He looked to Jor and Darlonn. “Stay here with them. Make sure it doesn’t come out. If you see it flee, kill it.”
“You aren’t going in alone!” Darlonn said stepping forward. His large frame was imposing, but Lailoken knew his heart was pure, as was his loyalty. He held up a hand to stop him.
“We’ll come wit
h you. No dragon escapes us twice,” Jor interjected.
“Stay here and guard this entrance. If it tries to escape, do what you must to bring it down. Station them to either side and wait. Maybe by then, Driano and his novice will arrive. They’ll get their damn blood then.”
Jor took a step forward, but Darlonn held her back. “It’s a good plan. If we all go in there and die, it will be a tragedy. If only he does, we’ll get the glory of the kill.” He winked at Lailoken who grinned.
“You do anything stupid, the dragon won’t be your biggest problem,” Jor said, pointing her sword at him. She shook her head and stalked away.
“We’ll be ready,” Darlonn said. Lailoken nodded.
He stood at the cave’s entrance and listened for the dragon. He heard nothing and had no choice. “So we begin,” he said.
Moving slowly, he entered the void of the cave, wary of a surprise attack from the Onyx. All it had to do was spew deadly acid and he’d be helpless to stop it unless Driano’s protection held. It was dangerous to track the thing, but it was his duty, his calling to do so.
The Magus of Tregaron preached on the necessity of dragon blood. Without it, their powers were weak. Blood-infused gems enhanced their powers exponentially. It had always been that way, at least as long as Lailoken knew. It was his calling as a slayer to do the work the Magus could not. This Onyx would not escape him.
Lailoken crept deeper into the darkness. Every sense was heightened. At any moment, he expected the dragon to lunge for him or unleash its awful acidic fury. No matter; death wasn’t the end.
The cave took a sudden right turn and Lailoken hesitated, waiting for the attack that never came. One long look back to the bright entrance of the cave and he followed the path to the right, plunging himself into near total darkness. When he got so far that he could no longer see the light behind him at the bend, a sound startled him.