The Conjuring of Zoth-Avarex

by K. R. R. Lockhaven

  “No idea.”

  Ana sat cross-legged on the floor.

  “The Universe makes no sense,” she said, apparently in some kind of shock. “If that exists, everything I thought I knew about. . . life is wrong. . . .” She held her head in her hands. “Does anything make sense? Can anything make sense? Or is the Universe simply random chaos with no meaning?” She stared at the wall.

  “It’s okay,” Harris said in his most comforting voice.

  “Is it? How would you know?”

  “Uh. . . I’m here for you.” Harris knew as soon as the stupid words spewed from his stupid mouth that he, a dork she had just met yesterday, was an insignificant comfort in the face of insanity-inducing existential horror.

  Before she had a chance to respond, Xop flew down and snuggled her cheek. “Evewything weally is okay,” he said in the cutest voice ever. “Even if life doesn’t make sense, we can find meaning in weletively basic things. Family, fwiends, fun, love, helping others, ceweal. These things are weal, and good.”

  Ana petted Xop’s soft fur.

  “We need to find out if your sister is okay, wight?”

  “Yeah.” The corner of Ana’s mouth turned up as if pulled by an invisible string. Her eyes shone with resolution. “Thanks, Xop. Let’s go.”

  Ring Around the Dragon

  The wash from the helicopter whipped Silvia’s hair behind her and blew dust in her eyes. She turned away from it and threw an arm over in front of her face while it landed. But she didn’t close her eyes, instead keeping them trained on the edge of the observation deck.

  Once the blades had slowed down, she turned back in time to see the dragon’s shield reform a protective bubble over the top of the Space Needle.

  A short man with a mustache and military uniform hopped out of the chopper and, quite unnecessarily, ducked as he walked away from it. Two men followed him out, carrying a pirate-style treasure chest between them.

  “General Morgan,” Zoth-Avarex said to the approaching men as he fondled a small pile of gold bars. “Thank you for visiting. To what do I owe this pleasure?” The dragon wore the wryest of grins.

  “Zoth-Avarex,” the short man shouted up at the dragon. “I have come here today on behalf of the United States of America to present you with a literal treasure chest full of priceless treasures.”

  “Wow, you came all this way to deliver this yourself? I’m flattered, and honored.”

  “I wanted to show you how hard we are working to fulfill our side of the bargain. I wanted to personally deliver these priceless items in hopes that we could get back to civil negotiations.” The general was trying to hide a wry smile of his own. “But first, please accept this gift I give to you.” He held his hands out at the treasure chest.

  “Thank you so much, General Morgan.” Zoth-Avarex opened the chest, revealing a pile of gold coins topped with the Ring of Brocéliande. “I mean, this is a huge step toward us understanding each other better. I am—” The dragon clutched his chest with both claws. “Is that. . . the. . . R-ring of Brocéliande?”

  “Yes!” General Morgan exclaimed, pumping his fist. “I have given it as a gift and you’ve accepted it!”

  “But. . . that’s not fair. That’s not negotiating in good faith. I. . .”

  “The negotiations are over.” The general rubbed his hands together. “Now, let me test this thing out. Let’s see. . .Zoth-Avarex, I want you to bark like a dog.”

  “Bark!” The dragon covered his mouth with his claws after the sound escaped.

  “Slap yourself across the face.” General Morgan’s grin stretched from ear to ear.

  The dragon complied. The impact of the slap vibrated Silvia’s feet.

  “Why are you doing this?” Zoth-Avarex’s reptilian face was a mask of anguish.

  “Blow fire directly over your head.”

  The dragon tilted its massive head back and sent a jet of flame into the sky. Silvia could feel the radiant heat from where she stood.

  “Ha! I have harnessed your power, dragon. Now, not only will you let this girl go, forget your ridiculous demands, and leave this beloved landmark, but you will now become a part of our great military. You will be a beacon of liberty in our world, whether you want to or not!”

  Silvia couldn’t help but think something wasn’t right, although hope sprang in her pounding heart. She alternated between watching the scene play out in front of her, and eyeing the edge of the observation deck.

  “You treacherous humans,” the dragon lamented. “I doomed myself with a mere slip of the tongue. Now I’ll never get all the gold I deserve.”

  “Enough talking,” General Morgan said. “I want you to take down this shield now.”

  “You didn’t say, ‘Simon Says.’”

  “Take. It. Down.”

  “Yes, sir. Right after.”

  “Right after what?”

  “Right after you strut your stubby little legs back behind me, pucker up those caterpillar-topped lips, and give my scaly ass a big smooch!” The dragon’s laugh was heard in Tacoma.

  “Dragon! I have given you an order and you must obey! I don’t have time for games.”

  “It’s true. . . . I must obey. . . . If—and that’s a huge if—that ring truly has the power to bind me. You think it does?”

  “You cannot outsmart me. I will not fall for your tricks. Just do as I say.”

  Zoth-Avarex plucked the ring from the top of the gold pile. “It really is nice. A bit smaller than I’d hoped, but still nice.”

  Silvia spoke up. “That ring has no power to bind you, does it?”

  “No, Princess, it doesn’t. I only wanted it because it’s sparkly, and pretty, and famous in certain circles. That’s it.”

  “Shit,” she whispered.

  “Bullshit,” General Morgan said. “We found an ancient grimoire that described the ring and its power. It was written long before the Site even existed.”

  “For the one who giveth the ring shall control the one who accepts the ring as a gift,” the dragon said. “Sound familiar?”

  “So you know it too. That proves nothing.”

  “I know it because I incepted someone to write it. And I gotta toot my own horn, here. That was some pretty genius stuff if I don’t say so myself5.”

  “Impossible.”

  “Is your human mind able to comprehend how spacetime or magictime works?”

  “Yes.”

  “Obviously not.”

  “For the last time,” the general stomped his boot, “Take down your force field.”

  “Nah, I’m good.” Zoth-Avarex turned to Silvia. “Do you want to see it?”

  “Sure.” She shrugged. Her shrugging muscles were getting tired hanging out with Zoth-Avarex.

  The dragon handed the ring, which was pinched carefully between two massive claws, to Silvia. She thought it looked gaudy and ridiculous.

  When she handed the ring back, Zoth-Avarex began to mutter under his breath to her. “I’m sure glad that they,” he aimed a thumb at General Morgan and his men, “don’t know that I split my soul into seven pieces and placed each piece into the Earth’s seven most valuable jewels.” He looked around suspiciously, as if to ensure no one else could hear him. “If they only knew that they simply had to bring all seven horcruxes here to make me, uh, vulnerable to annihilation, I’d be as good as dead.” It would have been obvious, even to Bill Gulley, that the dragon hoped to be heard, and believed. “Whew,” he continued. “I am so happy they don’t know about that juicy little secret.”

  “I can hear you and I’m not buying it,” General Morgan said. “I guess I have to admit that you fooled us once, and that’s shame on you, but it’s not going to be shame on us, because you won’t fool us again.” The general seemed impressed with himself for getting through that sentence.

  “All right,
all right, enough with the fun and games, then.” The dragon snapped his claws and a big roll of parchment appeared and unfurled in front of the general. “Here is a list, in alphabetical order, of some of the things I want. If, and only if, you get me these things will I negotiate with you again.”

  Silvia scooted over near the military men and peeked at the list. It read:

  Zoth’s Wish List

  Amulet of Samarkand, The

  Antioch, The Holy Hand Grenade of

  Arkenstone, The

  That was as far as she could see before the parchment curled up at the bottom.

  “I don’t even know what these things are,” General Morgan said.

  “Well google them, then.”

  The general pulled out his phone.

  “Do that later, though. For now, get back in your helicopter and get the hell out of here. You’re damn lucky I’m letting you live after what you just pulled. Trying to make me slap myself and shit. . . . But I did get a good laugh out of the whole thing, and I’ve always wanted this ring, so I guess I’ll let you live. You’re not gonna become a martyr on my watch. Not yet, anyway.”

  “Just a min—”

  “Go!” The dragon’s eyes flashed and the spikes on his neck stood up.

  General Morgan and his men swung around and rushed to the helicopter.

  As the chopper’s rotor picked up speed, Silvia’s eyes darted back and forth between the edge of the observation deck and Zoth-Avarex.

  * * *

  5 Zoth’s Footnotes: The only time I had a better “inception” was the time I had a bet with this green dragon. We bet each other half our hoards at that time on who could persuade a race of men somewhere to build the biggest structure. I was a young buck of a dragon back then. The spikes on my neck were only about a foot long. I mean, I wasn’t even a thousand, yet.

  Anyway, I planted the idea in a group of people right here on this Earth, coincidentally. My friend—well, more of an acquaintance—thought way too one-dimensionally. He tried to find a rich guy and “inspire” him to build the biggest building he could build. While I went all “outside the box,” as you humans say.

  I created an entire culture and religion around the building of giant pyramids in a place called Egypt. By the time the humans got to the “Great Pyramid of Giza,” I had won the bet. I got half of his hoard, which brought the value of mine up to about thirty billion American dollars, adjusted for inflation. It was one of the best days of my entire life.

  Of course, I eventually lost that beautiful hoard. But that is a sad, sad story for another time.

  The Realm of Valorous

  “So the Ring of Brocéliande was bullshit?” Jake said, shoulders drooped.

  “Yeah. Eddie was right to have been suspicious.” Harris put a hand on Jake’s shoulder and they both turned away from the newscast showing on the break-room TV.

  “We’d better get to Valorous, then.” Jake’s sullen face gradually changed to wear a stoic, purposeful expression.

  “We need to talk to Marian about the inter-dimensional blade first,” Ana said, seeming to have come almost completely out of her own funk.

  They found Marian in Eddie’s old cubicle.

  “The last portal we made was really small,” Ana told her. “How much energy do you think it has left?”

  Marian took the dagger and studied it. “Damn,” she said, “it probably only has three left.”

  “So we can’t get the sword, come back, go to Titan, and come back?”

  “You could, but I would have to hold the last portal open for you until you return.”

  “You can do that?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why don’t we go to Titan straight from Valorous?”

  “It’s much harder to open a portal from a foreign realm to another foreign realm. The opportunities for mistakes are higher that way. I think coming back here is the safest way, given the low energy of the blade. Come find me before you head to Titan. We can barricade ourselves in the locker room again and I can hold the portal open for you there.”

  “There’s no more margin of error for going to the wrong realm,” Harris said with a frown.

  “I can do it.” Ana held out her hand for the dagger.

  Another forest.

  This one felt different, though.

  It felt more sacred.

  A fine mist swirled through the crisp air like seawater rushing in among tide pools and eddying in the hideaways of hermit crabs. The spiritual aura was enhanced by just the right amount of cicadas and birdsong, like an ambient adagio performed only for them. Pale green lichen hung from twisting, ancient branches, like lichen hanging from branches.

  About thirty yards ahead of the group was an impressive oak tree with a sword protruding from its trunk. Behind the tree, an abrupt hill, its grass brownish in the summer sun, towered over the forest canopy. All around them, the horizon was decorated with majestic mountain peaks.

  As Harris, Ana, Jake, and Xop started for the tree, movement caught their eyes. They stopped and concealed themselves behind tall ferns.

  Another group was approaching the tree from their right. Seven beings of varying heights strode proudly, chests out, toward the sword. The one in front looked like an elf from Middle Earth. Behind him was a stunning and graceful female elf, two dwarves equipped with bushy beards and battle axes, two male humans with manicured facial hair, and a small humanoid with blue skin, no shirt, white pants, and a white hat.

  “O Guardians of the Venerable Sword!” the elf in front said, sounding like an eager amateur Shakespearean actor, “We have journeyed far and overcome many hardships on our quest to reach the Forest of Obscurity. Our quest is the noblest of pursuits, for we wish to use this sword of legend to vanquish a foul foe. The Dark Lord has amassed an army of trolls in Immoria and has set upon our peaceful peoples in hopes of destroying us all and ruling the world.”

  The ground began to tremble. Harris held on to a pine sapling.

  Behind the great oak tree, the hill began to move as if alive. It rose up higher than before and two eyes opened near its peak.

  To his astonishment, Harris saw that the hill had taken the form of a giant bear. The brownish grass on the hill was, in fact, fur. Somehow Harris had no inclination to run or hide or pee himself. The bear seemed chill.

  “Welcome, travelers,” the giant bear said. Its voice was deep and gentle, like aural honey. “I am Osoro, and this is Renia and Cier.”

  Two magnificent creatures appeared from the mist on either side of the bear. The first was an elegant fox that stood as tall as a horse. It stepped forward with an extraordinary grace. The second was a stag, which glowed with a faint silvery light. Its antlers seemed to have a hundred points, but somehow fit its head perfectly.

  “Only one who is pure of heart can pull the sword from the Great Oak,” the stag said without moving its mouth. “No one, since the singing gods created our world, has ever had the purity of heart needed for the task.”

  “I will try.” One of the human-looking guys stepped forward and took a dramatic knee. “For I am Baltimore, the rightful king of Maryland. My heart is pure, my intentions just, my crabs delicious. Many say it is my destiny to wield the Venerable Sword and defeat the Dark Lord.”

  “All right,” the fox said, “give it a go, then.”

  With long strides the man approached the sword. A breeze picked up and the man took a moment to let his long, freshly shampooed and conditioned hair flutter in the wind. He gripped the hilt with both hands and gave a mighty tug, but the sword did not budge.

  “Well, fuck.” The man sulked to the back of his band of heroes. The little blue guy patted him on the ankle.

  “I shall attempt the deed.” The male elf now stepped forward with a theatrical flair. “For I am Arinyn’aryn, son of Vaelyl’ilelyn, the proud lord o
f the Elven Vale. I have slain the Vapid Beast of the Graylands. I have vanquished the would-be usurper, Gary. I have. . .”

  As the elf continued his soliloquy, an idea alighted in Harris’s head.

  “Xop,” he whispered, “come here, please.”

  “. . . and furthermore,” the elf went on, “my lovemaking abil—”

  The sword hilt wiggled in the tree. Everyone, including the three magical guardians, sucked in a surprised breath and trained their eyes on it.

  “The Venerable Sword senses my presence.” The elf stared with a confident, expectant air.

  The sword began to slide out from the tree, slowly. When it was completely free, it hung in the air beside the Great Oak. The sword began to move, but not toward the elf, who had extended a muscular arm in expectation. Instead, the sword glided toward the other group in the forest, the group who had remained hidden until that moment.

  Jake stepped out from his leafy cover and held out his hand. The sword came right to him and deposited itself in his grip.

  The group of elves, humans, dwarves, and the blue guy all took dramatic knees and lowered their heads.

  “The Hero Who Was Promised,” one of the dwarves said.

  Behind some bushes, Xop threw off the Invisibility Cloak and handed it back to Harris with a wink. Harris and Ana both petted and praised the little pure-hearted imp.

  “Oh Hero, oh He-Who-Would-Vanquish-the-Dark-Lord, what shall we call you?”

  “My name is Jake. . . Jake Sumner, and I’m sorry, but I’ve gotta get going. We’ll be right back with this.” He held up the sword before vanishing into the portal Ana had just opened.

  To Titan!

  Marian propped a folding chair under the handle of the locker room door to keep it shut.

  “Just in case,” she said while slipping on golden gloves she had removed from her locker.

  “What are those?” Jake asked.