Julie hesitated when another resounding crash made the ground beneath her feet tremble. She glanced back over her shoulder like a frightened rabbit. “We aren’t going to make it, are we?”
At the sound of despair in her voice, everyone shuffled to a stop. Before Edward could attempt to say anything to comfort his friends, Sygax spoke in his deep, rumbling tone. “I will turn back and try to stall them,” he offered courageously, staring directly at the wizard and awaiting approval.
“I can’t, in good conscience, allow you to do that.” Edward frowned, his voice quivering with emotion. “It would be suicide to go back there. Surely you must realize that.”
Although they couldn’t understand the dragon’s speech, Brian and the two women easily figured out what was being said by listening to Edward’s responses. As much as she fought with trust issues regarding the dragons, Katie realized the sacrifice Sygax would be making if he attempted to take on the army of machines by himself. The young dragon’s willingness to put himself in harm’s way was admirable, but instead of making Katie feel better, she suddenly felt like a fool. When she’d been a young girl, she had dreamed of and adored mythical creatures like dragons and unicorns. So why, as an adult, was she leery of their noble intentions? A tear slipped from the corner of her eye, and she broke away from the others to approach Sygax, who eyed her curiously as she stopped before him. “I’m sorry for ever doubting you,” she whispered sadly, throwing her arms around the young dragon’s neck.
Shocked gazes passed between Edward, Brian, and Julie. None of them had expected this from Katie, especially considering the way she’d been acting since discovering that Sygax had spent his youth feasting on human flesh. A weak smile bloomed on the wizard’s face, thinking for the first time in a while that maybe, just maybe, things would get better. Katie’s seemingly new outlook on their mythical companions gave Edward hope, which was something all of them could really use right now. Begrudgingly, he approached the young beast. Putting one hand on Katie’s shoulder and the other on the dragon’s snout, Edward’s voice trembled when he said, “I withdraw my objection, Sygax. If you truly wish to attempt stalling the machines, I won’t stand in your way. Go with our blessings.”
“No!” Skarr’s booming tone shook the surrounding trees.
***
Disoriented, George regained consciousness on the sandy, unfamiliar shore. The bright afternoon sun reflected off of the sea, making it nearly impossible to gain his bearings. He rubbed his eyes, feeling like the landscape before them was a dream he could will away. A migraine threatened, his head pounding so hard that it made the simple task of focusing on any one thing a preposterous notion. Massaging his temples, he opened his eyelids as much as he dared.
Where the hell am I? How did I get here? As painful as the prospect was, George searched his aching brain for answers. The last thing he remembered was being whisked through a black void by some sort of evil creature or demon, feeling ripped apart and reassembled as he stepped into the strange portal, and finding himself standing in an enormous chamber of horrors. Before entering the crucifix filled room with its emaciated prisoners chained on to wooden frames, he had thought there was something wrong with himself because he found delight in torturing people. It was nothing compared to the display in front of him, though. Whoever had strung these individuals up was obviously much more twisted than he ever was. At least he was merciful, in his mind anyway, taking his captives’ lives before they wasted away. What was the point of having nude prisoners on display if they weren’t worth looking at?
He gazed through his squinted eyelids, and the memory instantly faded. The sound of softly lapping waves reinforced the harsh reality he now faced. There wasn’t a single shred of familiarity in his surroundings. Living most of his life in Ohio, the closest thing to this was standing on the shores of Lake Erie, which was obviously not what lay before him. These waters were clear, like the untainted sea of some exotic and remote location, not the murky brown of the great lake near his home.
The sun disappeared behind a wispy cloud, easing the glare from the ocean and allowing George to open his eyelids further. He shielded his eyes in case the fiery orb reappeared, and inhaled sharply. Until now, he hadn’t noticed the beached vessels. The sight of them forced doubts of his sanity to surface. Both looked out of place in the almost serene environment. One seemed to be something straight out of a science fiction movie, while the other appeared to be from a time long forgotten. Even from this distance, which was roughly a quarter of a mile, a bustle of activity could be seen on the deck of the latter. Hesitantly, George strolled across the sand toward the older looking vessel. He wasn’t entirely sure what he would discover when he got there, but maybe the crew could help him. At the very least, perhaps he could figure out where he was.
Chapter 22
Skarr had been extremely upset about Sygax putting himself in harm’s way, reacting with an almost maternal instinct as if she had raised him from the time he first emerged as a hatchling. Eventually, the ancient female dragon had come to realize that there was no stopping the willful youth. His determination and loyalty to his new friends was unshakable, and no matter what she said to persuade him, he insisted that the endeavor was the only way to ensure the humans had a chance to survive.
Unable to take flight, Sygax fought his way through the tangled vines and underbrush. After heading north for a couple of hours, he stopped to rest. When he did, the young dragon realized for the first time that the ground trembling beneath his feet was coming from something other than himself. During his travels, the canopy of leaves overhead had slowly begun to diminish, allowing slivered shafts of sunlight to penetrate the gloom. Even so, he couldn’t see what appeared to be coming toward him, and having never seen the army that was bent on destroying the humans, Sygax had no clue what he was up against. The only thing he was certain of was the fact that there was something large heading straight toward him.
Taking a deep breath and letting it out, Sygax resumed his journey. It wasn’t long, maybe an hour had lapsed, when he suddenly felt sure that the danger he searched for was upon him. Less than a minute after his senses went on high alert, he spotted a smoky form moving rapidly in his direction. Distracted by the ghostly presence, he didn’t catch sight of the machines trailing in the wake of the formless demon until they were already upon him.
An ear-splitting roar rushed toward the nearly transparent menace when Sygax attempted to warn the creature from getting any closer. Although the deafening blast was carried on his super-heated breath, causing the dampened bark of surrounding trees to smolder, the ghost-like entity showed no signs of backing down. The first glimmers of sunlight reflecting off the metallic bodies of the mechanical army caught his attention. It was in that moment when Sygax realized he might have bitten off a bit more than he could chew.
In an effort to regroup, the young dragon tried to launch himself skyward. Although the foliage had thinned considerably since leaving Skarr and the others, the branches overhead were still thick enough to prevent his escape. His wings tangled in the limbs as he attempted to rise into the air, causing Sygax to tumble back to the ground. He barely managed to get his legs beneath him as the first wave of metallic sentinels—the tiny, beetle-like drones—washed over him. He roared in agony as the minute machines began ripping scales, and the flesh underneath, from his bones, flaying the meat from his body like hundreds of tiny butchers. In a desperate, last ditch effort, Sygax inhaled as deeply as he could manage and expelled the largest flame from his mouth that he could muster. If it was his time to die, then he was going to take as many of the vile machines down with him as he could.
***
It took Edward much longer than he would have anticipated to convince Skarr to continue heading south toward the Throne of the Gods. While he could certainly sympathize with the dragon’s uneasiness after Sygax’s departure, the delay frustrated him beyond measure. Time was his greatest enemy at this point, knowing that Katie’s next
cycle of aging was probably only hours away; the rapidly setting sun brought with it a renewed sense of urgency. The fact that Amber was beginning to gain solidity again—as much as a ghost could, anyway—only served to heighten his worries. Granted, by the eerie light of her glowing form, they would be able to pick their way through the tropical forest significantly quicker, but on the flip side of that was the depressing fact they were still unable to climb on Skarr’s back and take to the air.
Although the speed of their travel had increased after Amber rejoined them, Edward noticed that her pace had slowed slightly and her glow had begun to pulsate. Prior experience told him this wasn’t a good sign; usually it happened because she was fearful or nervous. Normally, it meant their lives were in eminent danger. His cheeks puffed out, and a despaired sigh pushed between his pursed lips. As if we don’t have enough problems!
Amber paused, allowing the others to catch up. It wasn’t something she was used to doing. Up until recently, her human friends had either machines or animals to ride, making it easier for them to keep pace with her.
“What’s wrong, Amber?” The anguish in Edward’s tone was more than evident.
“It—it’s my killer,” she answered nervously. “I can feel his presence getting closer to us by the second.”
As the words left Amber’s ghostly lips, Katie began to visibly shake. “Shit! Not again!” Her voice cracked, her response coming out like the croak of a frog. “I really thought we were done dealing with that asshole.” She turned her head toward Julie, who'd remained quiet, and saw the terrified look in her eyes. Although Katie was fighting her own conflicting emotions—predominantly hatred and fear, which was caused by thoughts of her former bus driver, but also a sense of doom as the seconds ticked away toward her impending death—she wrapped her arms around her friend in an attempt to comfort her. Julie’s experiences with the sadistic madman had been far more terrible than anything Katie had been forced to endure, aside from the fairy curse that continually aged her, and she couldn’t begin to imagine the horror her friend felt.
Edward’s jaw hung open in a gape of incredulity. He knew Amber was going to be the bearer of ill tidings, but he hadn’t expected the new development. He should have, though. The evil spirit had caused him to kill people he loved and his comrades, so it wasn’t likely an evil that great would just go away. Damn it! I should have seen this coming! If it weren’t for Katie’s situation, I would step down as their leader. I’m not sure how much longer I can do this. Everyone’s lives depend on my decisions, and all I’ve been doing lately is letting my friends down. He lowered his head shamefully, afraid to face the others and give voice to his concerns.
The wizard’s train of berating thoughts was interrupted by an agonized, half-scream, half-roar that pierced the air, the tortured sound coming from the north. Immediately, Skarr whipped her massive head toward the lamentation, knowing that it was the young dragon who she’d grown fond of, almost as if he were her own offspring. The mere thought of someone or something harming the youngster filled her with fury. At that moment, she wanted nothing more than to snuff the life from any creature who got between her and Sygax. If it meant setting the world ablaze to rid Desolace of all potential threats to dragonkind, so be it.
Almost as an afterthought, Skarr spun her head to face Edward. Fire raged in her slitted eyes as she spoke, “I’m sorry, wizard, but I must go. I’ll try to find you again after I’ve avenged Sygax.”
Edward opened his mouth to protest and promptly shut it. Nothing he said would matter to the mythical beast, he could see that much in her eyes before she turned away. He’d felt the same, insurmountable hatred when his loved ones had died, some of which by his own misguided hands. All he could do now was watch as Skarr stomped off into the darkness, leaving behind a void that no one could fill. “Be careful, my friend,” he whispered. “May the gods bring you back to us safely.” With a heavy sigh, Edward turned back toward his comrades, suddenly feeling alone and extremely vulnerable.
Chapter 23
When George got within shouting distance of the galley, he waved his arms over his head in an attempt to get the attention of the crew. “Hey! Can I get a little help over here?” His bellowed plea seemed to reach the ship. All movement ground to a halt and the heads of everyone on deck spun toward the sound of his voice. He wasn’t entirely sure what he expected to get as a response, perhaps a plank extended from the ship toward the beach that would grant him access, but seeing a multitude of sailors jumping overboard was the last thing he thought would happen. Suddenly, he was nervous, wondering if it was a bad idea to draw attention to himself.
When the crew splashed into the water beside the vessel, the sun was at an angle that shrouded them in the shadows cast by the ship. It wasn’t until the first sailor attained the beach that he realized the dreadful mistake he’d made. The individual that approached was anything but human, and the rattle of its bones as it quickly came toward him sent a shiver up his spine. Had he bumped his head, or possibly been drugged? The situation seemed too surreal to be anything other than a dream or hallucination … or a scene from a really bad B movie. Skeletons don’t walk, his mind insisted. The approaching figures, however, suggested otherwise.
Before George could turn to flee the nightmarish sight, a net descended over him. Pinned beneath the weight of the ropes, he struggled to get free. When his efforts were unsuccessful, he dropped to his knees and pawed at the sand, trying to dig his way out with his hands. Cackling laughter erupted behind him.
“Ain’t no point in strugglin’,” the bony captain assured him. “Yer too scrawny to escape my net, ye stupid dog.” The skeletal man snapped his teeth together like a vicious animal, then chuckled madly.
George had barely managed to create a divot in the sand, not nearly enough of a hole to escape, when he realized the futility of his actions. The bony creature—which reminded him of the fake human skeleton from his high school anatomy class—was no longer alone; his fellow sailors had joined him in a tight circle, completely surrounding the heavy mesh draped over him. Glancing from one skeleton to the next, trying to spot a sign of weakness or distraction, his hopes sank. Not only was their attention transfixed, the crew began to kneel beside the edges of the net and jab their bony arms through the holes, stabbing George gleefully with the pointed tips of their fingers. At first, he had thought the sailors were merely torturing him. It wasn’t until one of the skeletons clamped onto his ankle with a vise-like grip and began drawing his leg toward its mouth that things began to fit together like the pieces of a puzzle in his mind. Suddenly, the captain’s snapping teeth made more sense. It had nothing to do with his reference to George being a dog. They weren’t trying to make him suffer. They had been checking to see how tender his flesh would be. He wasn’t a prisoner, but a meal!
As the crew eagerly latched on to George’s extremities, he was unable to hear the cracking of his bones over the excited sound of teeth clacking together. He closed his eyes and tried to shut out the pain, but the pressure on his stretching limbs was too much to bear. George screamed in agony, feeling like he was being drawn and quartered. Mercifully, the excruciating pain was short-lived. He felt the tendons and muscles in his left shoulder give way like overstretched rubber bands. His flesh separated, like flimsy pieces of tape were holding him together. Blood sprayed from the wound like a macabre fountain, and when the warm liquid reached its apex, it splashed down on his face like rain, coating his eyes with a veil of red. Then, his consciousness—as well as his life—drifted toward the darkness. There was no white light to greet him, only the oblivion of death.
***
When his vengeful spirit caught up to the Black Knight’s army, picking a machine to hide inside of was easy. He just searched for the biggest, most indestructible-looking machine he could find, and slipped through its metal outer shell to the vacant spaces within. After all, they weren’t completely solid. There had to be room within the framework of their bodies for the workers—
who were primarily human—to attach the various pieces, parts, and wiring harnesses. At least, with the larger mechanical creatures. The smaller ones, like the tiny, beetle-like drones, were too minute for such considerations.
Once inside one of the enormous, troll-like sentinels, George slithered into its head. Unlike the cyborgs he had figured out how to control in the past, these machines were too large. He couldn’t stretch his spiritual form to imitate the mechanical monster, but at least he would be able to watch what transpired outside its metallic shell from within its head.
It wasn’t long after he’d infiltrated the gleaming creature when the sounds of battle penetrated the steel of the construct he hid inside of, the deafening reverberation of a dragon’s roar echoing through the empty spaces in the giant’s skull. One might think the biggest drawback to being a ghost was that you had no ears to plug and no eyelids to shut, so every sensation was forced upon you whether you liked it or not. Thankfully, it also meant there was no substance to the brain of a ghost, making it impossible to get headaches.
As gigantic as the head of the machine was, George could only position himself to gaze through one of its optic sensors. He caught a glimpse of the dragon outside, which seemed small in comparison to the machine he was inside of. Despite the mythical beast’s best efforts, the mechanical army swarmed over its body like a dark cloud moving across the sky. A belch of flame sprayed from the creature’s maw, engulfing and blackening everything in its path. Some of the affected machines lay smoldering and useless, looking like tiny lumps of coal from George’s vantage point, but most of the minute sentinels continued forward unfazed.
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