Spark of War

by J. A. Culican

  "Son, let me deal with this elf," Mikah said, practically spitting the last word in disgust. "I'll send him to the underworld with the very sword his people helped create."

  Heat radiated from Jaekob's eyes and wisps of smoke rose into view from his nostrils as rage overtook him. There was no way he was going to let Mikah take this from him. The elves had taken Jewel away from him, and this elf was a part of that. He was going to pay for it. Instead of standing back as his father had commanded, Jaekob leapt through the air at the elf, his spear held over his head in one hand with a hammer grip, its point arcing downward at the elf.

  "No!" Mikah cried out, but it was too late. The die was cast.

  The elf opened his mouth in an "O" shape, surprised at Jaekob's sudden leap forward, but he managed to bring his short sword up and swept Jaekob's spear tip far aside,

  Jaekob landed and, as he came down, he smashed the steel-tipped butt into the elf's head just above one ear. It knocked the elf sideways, leaving him staggering and dazed. The elf almost tripped over his own punch-drunk feet, but kept upright and even managed to get his sword in front of him just in time to block the next attack as Jaekob swung his spear like a sword, trying to hit with the spear tip.

  Jaekob kept the spear's momentum going and brought the butt across, using two hands on the haft, and knocked the elf's sword aside. It left him with his spear tip pointed toward the ground. He thrust it, driving the wicket tip into the elf's inner left thigh, six inches below the belt. He ripped it downward to free it, widening the wound tremendously.

  The elf cried out as a spurt of crimson gushed from the eight-inch gash, and his left leg buckled, bringing him down on one knee.

  Still using both hands on the spear haft for more power and leverage, Jaekob immediately thrust his spear again and buried the six-inch blade into the spot where the elf's neck and collarbones met, then ripped it out again, which sent a spatter of blood flying as his vicious war-yell echoed through the tunnels.

  The fight had ended almost as fast as it had begun. Still snarling, he turned to face the others. Kalvin looked frustrated, trying to peer around Mikah, who stood a couple feet away with his blade held at the ready.

  Mikah was already coming out of his battle stance as Jaekob turned around, and stared at him. "Son, you can't put yourself at risk like that."

  "That's right," Kalvin said, glowering at him, "Risking your life--"

  Jaekob snarled, "Every fight has risk. You wanted me by your side if we went to war, Father? Well, they figured out how to get through the wards. They've stolen eggs, invaded our territory, and killed my... my friend, Jewel. I needed to do this. Now, you can stand there telling me how stupid I was, or we can go look for the elf's friends. There's no way he came here alone."

  The corners of Mikah's mouth tipped up in a faint smile--or was that just his imagination? It was gone in a flash, though. "Come, son. Kalvin. Our people need us."

  Jaekob’s thoughts were a blur. Jewel, the blacksmith shop he doubted he'd ever be able to bring himself to visit again, his father's speeches about responsibility and duty. Well, if he could get justice for Jewel by accepting the duty his father insisted he owed to the people, then he'd be the most dutiful son ever. He'd do anything his father and his people asked of him, just as long as it meant the elves paid.

  #

  Scene 08-A

  Kalvin bent down and pulled one of the small glass vials from the elf's leather belt. He held it close to one eye, peering at it intently. "It looks like blood."

  Jaekob felt a rising fear tickling the back of his mind. Please don't let it be what it looked like... "Open it and smell it. Then we'll know."

  Opening the vial's stopper with a grunt, Kalvin held it under his nose, mouth open to improve his sense of smell. He snapped his mouth shut, hard enough to make his teeth click. "Not just blood. Dragon blood."

  "That's how they got in," Mikah said, tense.

  Jaekob cursed under his breath. "How does that let them get through the wards?" he asked, but already knew the answer.

  "They're injecting it, I imagine," Mikah said. "The wards only allow passage to 'those with dragon blood in their veins.' They seem to have found a loophole." Mikah tossed the vial aside and it shattered on the stone floor, leaving a splash of blood and a thousand glittering glass pieces.

  Jaekob wiped his spear off on the elf's trousers. "So that's how they snuck in and dug these tunnels. But why? What's their goal?"

  "I don't know, son."

  Kalvin said, "Whatever their plan, if this elf doesn't return, they'll know something is wrong. We have to figure this out before that happens."

  Jaekob rested the butt of his spear on the floor and held the haft just below where the blood-stained wood was. "If it's that urgent, we don't have time to gather up Scouts. Maybe we should just see where this other tunnel goes."

  He turned on his heels and strode toward the tunnel. Mikah followed him with his sword still in hand, with Kalvin following. His sudden departure prevented them from trying to talk him out of it. Good. Jaekob wouldn't have let them stop him, anyway. He walked even faster, scanning the walls and floor for glyphs as he went. He couldn't help anyone if he got crushed like... like Jewel had been.

  The tunnel swept gently to the right. His dragon sense of direction made his heart beat a little faster--the Soul Pool was nearby. Thankfully, the tunnel was sweeping away from that honored, magical place. When he found a T-intersection up ahead, he almost panicked. One path led straight toward the nearby pool. "Father, the turn--"

  "The Soul Pool," Mikah half-whispered, and Jaekob clearly heard the rising panic in his father's voice.

  They sped up, almost jogging, moving at a speed that was reckless considering that there might have been more traps lying in wait for them. They hadn't triggered any, though, by the time they reached the tunnel's end. It stopped abruptly, a carved-stone wall blocking them.

  That couldn't be right. Jaekob's direction sense told him they were practically in the Soul Pool cavern. Another elvish trick. he snarled and raised the steel-tipped butt of his spear, ready to smash it into the wall, but Mikah grabbed him at the last moment and spun him around so they stood face to face.

  "No, don't do that. I sense it too--we're almost in the Soul Pool--and I know how eager you are for blood right now, but bashing that wall may not break it down, and it might damage your weapon. Plus, the noise--"

  "I get it!" Jaekob snapped. The noise would have alerted anyone on the other side, yeah, yeah. "So, what now?"

  Mikah grimaced. "There must be a symbol on the wall. Help me look for it." He started to search it inch by inch, starting where the wall and floor connected. "Are you waiting for an invitation?"

  Jaekob didn't waste time on a snappy answer. He started his own search of the wall where it connected with the ceiling, then moved down an inch and went back over it. He was on his fourth row when Mikah let out an excited "Ooh!"

  "What? Did you find a glyph?" Jaekob said, trying to see what his father looked at.

  "Yes, see here?" He pointed to a slight dip in the surface of the irregular wall.

  Jaekob saw it was indeed part of a glyph. He could see the line extending up and down and then curling around, once he'd seen the part Mikah pointed out, and he recognized the general shape of it. The same glyph had been the one on the wall he and Jewel had disintegrated. Jewel...

  He put his hand on the glyph. Mikah cried out in alarm, but he paid that no mind, focusing on the glyph. Like before, it glowed faintly, revealing the entire glyph, but that was when he realized it wasn't exactly like the other. At the bottom, there was an extra, wavy line across the entire width of the symbol. He felt a moment of fear, but it was too late for that--

  The stone wall folded in on itself from right to left, like a curtain or accordion-like door being opened. It seemed that door, at least, was meant to be re-used. He stared past it as it opened.

  On the other side was the Soul Pool chamber. It spanned one-hundred feet ac
ross, roughly circular, the walls and floor and ceiling polished smooth as glass with generations of being worked by dragonfire.

  Against the "back" wall lay the Soul Pool itself. Only twenty feet wide, the Soul Pool was a, irregularly shaped, shallow indentation in the floor, but beautiful master-crafted, pearl-white flagstones formed a one-foot high wall around it, each stone fitting perfectly with the next so that it was water-tight even without the use of mortar or dragonfire to bond or melt them together.

  Elegant, delicate varieties of glowshrooms, the dragon version of flowers, grew atop the flagstone wall on the narrower ends, leaving the longer frontage open to conduct ceremonies without tripping over fungus.

  And there were elves

  Jaekob counted half a dozen of them, clustered by the Soul Pool itself with their backs to him and his group. The Soul Pool--ancient by even dragon standards--had stood untouched since its creation. It was said that when a dragon died, its soul entered the pool to begin the cycle of life again, but that while it waited within the pool, such souls were the source of all dragon powers. Without that pure pool of enchanted waters and dragon souls, all living dragons would be little more than long-lived humans.

  The elves standing near it had drawn up their sleeves, exposing bared arms that they held out over the pool. They held knives in their other hands.

  #

  Scene 08-B

  Mikah looked shocked to his core as he snarled, "If they taint the pool with their blood, all may be lost!"

  He needn't have said it, though. Jaekob's dragon essence flared bright within him, his spirit understanding instinctively what was going on. He reached for his spear, feeling his dragon riding within him, bringing its power to the surface. Scales rippled as they burst from his skin, shining an almost metallic blue. His human teeth were pushed out as miniature versions of his wickedly pointed dragon teeth came up under them. The old teeth fell to the floor, clinking, and he heard the other dragons’ teeth, as well.

  Someone bashed into him, shoving him into Mikah. It was Kalvin, rushing into the room with his sword drawn, scales shimmering in the 'shroomglow and smoke trailing from his nose and mouth. He let out a roar as he charged, overcome by his dragonblood Rising.

  Mikah bolted toward them, too, only a couple steps behind Kalvin, and Jaekob found himself hot on Mikah's heels, spear drawn, the heat from his inner fire warming him like a welcome blanket on a frozen night.

  The elves spun around, hearing the sudden commotion. One said something guttural in their foul language, and four stepped into a line to protect the other two. The remaining two began to chant as they rested their knife blades on the bare flesh of their forearms.

  Kalvin leapt at one of the elven defenders, but when his point was only a foot from his enemy's head, he seemed to strike a wall, bouncing off and landing on his back as a golden shimmer glowed faintly around the elf and then faded. “Some kind of magical shield!”

  Jaekob skidded to a stop, rather than leaping as his instincts screamed at him to do, and thrust his spear; it bounced aside helplessly. The elf's counter-attack wasn't slowed, however, and Jaekob had to lean back to avoid it, the sword tip passing inches from his face. He took two quick side-steps away from his enemy and looked for some weakness that would let his spear get through.

  Although Kalvin had gotten to his feet, and looked like he was doing the same thing Jaekob was, Mikah wasn't. He exchanged blows with his enemy, but when he finally found an opening--three blows and one second later--he swung his silvery blade, Alqatil, and it wasn't even slowed by the shield magic. It cut through the elf's abdomen, who staggered backward two steps and then collapsed. Where there was elf blood on his scimitar blade, it glowed a bright cerulean blue from the patterns etched into it.

  Jaekob had never seen it used in combat before, and would have loved to examine it. Now wasn't the time for that, however. He faced off against the three remaining elves guarding the other two, who were already drawing knives across their forearms. Jaekob didn't know what would happen when their blood hit the Spirit Pool, but it couldn't be good.

  As he looked at the elves, he noticed that two of the three guardians kept the third one slightly behind them.

  Mikah stepped forward again, but the two in front faced him, combining their efforts to keep him occupied. Kalvin swung again at one of them, this time without roaring and leaping, but his sword bounced off again.

  Jaekob had an idea. That third elf had his weapon out, but had been muttering under his breath, mouth moving continually, without trying to join the melee. He shouted, "The third one, he's casting!"

  He lunged with his spear, thrusting at blinding speed, but one of the other two stepped back half a step and knocked his spear aside. Frantically, he thrust again, and then again, but each time, one of the two elves facing them blocked his blow.

  Mikah shouted, "Hurry, get him, before the pool is tainted!" He was hard-pressed by the two elven warriors facing him. Each time he tried to step around them to get to the chanting guardian, he found his way blocked.

  Then, the two elves by the pool raised their voices, their chanting rising higher and higher. A glance told Jaekob they'd slit their wrists and crimson rivulets were beginning to run down their arms. He lunged frantically, but was blocked. In anger, he smashed his spear tip into the elf in his way over and over, tap tap tap, the metal point just a blur of speed, but it was pointless. The elves would succeed, whatever their plan.

  He took two steps back and then crouched lower, about to hurtle himself into the guardian elf, who awaited him with his sword and a sneer. This was going to hurt...

  Kalvin screamed and charged. He didn't leap, this time, but crouched low, legs pumping like pistons, head down to strike the elf with his shoulder.

  "Nooo!" Jaekob screamed, but it was too late.

  When Kalvin collided with the elf, the enemy's sword impaled him, but it didn't slow him down. The blade slid all the way through him, coming out his back after slicing through his shoulder blade. His momentum kept him going and he crashed into the elf. Its shield didn't help it, and they both went flying. When they landed, Kalvin staggered to his feet with the elf sword still buried in his shoulder up to its hilt. The elf, however, lay motionless with Kalvin's own sword sticking up from his chest.

  Jaekob didn't waste a moment, but was already rushing at the chanting guardian elf just like Kalvin had done with his target, but for the enchanter there was no magical shield. Jaekob’s six-inch spear tip slid through his chest dead-center and kept on going, until Jaekob collided with him. They crashed to the ground, striking the wall hard, but the elf acted as a cushion.

  Jaekob scrambled to his feet as he drew his dagger, but Mikah was already dicing up the last elf guardian, now without his shield or his companions. Instead, he charged the two by the pool. He roared in fury when he saw their blood streaming into the pool.

  Mikah and Kalvin were right behind him when he slammed into the two with his dagger held out in front of him, impaling one in the gut. His father and best friend finished the other one in seconds.

  They turned to look at the pool, but it had become tinged crimson from elf blood. As it spread through the Spirit Pool, the water began to hiss and pop as though it were boiling.

  Jaekob turned to his father and said, "Their blood--will it destroy the pool?"

  Mikah didn't get a chance to answer; Kalvin turned to face them, groaning. He was pale and sweaty. His left knee gave out and he collapsed to the floor, halfway propped up by the blade of the sword that still came out of his back. He reached out feebly toward Jaekob, who rushed to him and rested Kalvin’s head on his lap and growled in rage and panic.

  “You hang in, Kalvin. You’ll be fine. You’re going to be fine, I promise,” Jaekob said, begging as though his friend had a choice in the matter.

  Kalvin smiled, faintly, then opened his mouth and tried to speak. No words came out, only a growing bubble of blood, which popped as he took his last breath. He shivered like it was free
zing in the chamber as he slowly let that breath out. He didn't take another.

  As Mikah put his hand on his son's shoulder, the only sounds were Jaekob's angry, anguished cries and a faint hissing from the bloody Spirit Pool.