by Otto Schafer
Long ago when Apep first led them through the portal, the dragons and their queen sought out a perfect place to lay and hide thousands of dragon eggs. As it had turned out, the rocky soil combined with the perfect altitude and climate of Peru’s Pisco Valley formed the ideal place to bury, incubate, and hatch dragon eggs. And so, with the enslavement of over a thousand indigenous humans, the dragons buried tens of thousands of eggs. Unlike egg-laying creatures of earth, dragon eggs were fertilized by the male’s dragon fire. With the conditions perfect, over time the dragons began to hatch – and grow. Once the dragons learned to fly, they began to feed insatiably, ushering in a dark period in humanity’s history known then as the Dragon Wars – a period that, of course, humans didn’t remember.
Such a shame, Apep thought. He would have so enjoyed seeing the Dragon Wars at their peak, but he’d slept through it. What he deduced, based on the open holes stretching up the mountain, was that nearly seven thousand dragons must have hatched and been roaming the earth at the height of the Dragon Wars. What he never understood was how the humans bested them. His working theory was that the dragons were exposed to something on this world and had succumbed to it. Perhaps some kind of deadly virus. Of course, now he knew the truth. The dragons’ defeat was only achieved with the help of his own brother… Syldan. Thinking about the deceit made him feel foolish. To think, he’d actually believed it possible that humans had somehow managed to defeat dragons on their own. He could see now the idea was ridiculous.
The walk up the slope, the fresh air, the time to think and reflect, left him feeling good. He knew what needed to be done and he was ready. He spoke the words of power, and the light consumed him, transporting him two peaks over, a safe distance away from Queen Azazel’s breath should she try and annihilate him on sight.
At the sight of Apep the dragons stopped their work, rushing up the slope to take up positions on both sides of Azazel, ready to defend their queen.
The light around him faded as the elven wizard fell into a casual walk toward Azazel.
“What do you want, dökkálfar?” Azazel asked in her strange dual voice.
Apep held up his hands. “I came here to help you, Queen Azazel.”
The queen’s forked tongue flicked out like a snake tasting the air. “And why, pray tell, do you think I require your help?”
The other dragons hissed and cursed. “Kill him!” one said in a voice that sounded as though it belonged to a snake.
“Yes! Smite him, my queen!” another said, its voice filled with strange, cackling laughter, as if something hysterically funny had taken place.
“Smite the dökkálfar with fire and watch him burn,” another said. This one’s voice was strangely musical and angelic, as if the heavens opened and an angel began to sing. But the voice was a stark contrast to the menacing monster’s appearance as it sneered with its long, yellowed teeth, dripping saliva.
Apep felt himself becoming annoyed. The Sound Eye crown atop his head began to glow. “Before you try and cast me away with your pathetic dragon fire, you should know I have united the God Stones and now possess the Sound Eye!”
“Yes – we feel the power, but you should know, you cannot possess the Sound Eye, dökkálfar! You can only hold it,” Queen Azazel said.
Apep swept his arm out, gesturing at the assembled dragons. “Well, I hold it! And with it I can destroy you all.”
The dragons slowly formed a circle around him. “Are you sure, dökkálfar?” Queen Azazel asked. “Are you sure you can destroy us? I feel the Sentheye surging in me too… What’s to stop me from just reaching out and taking it from you?”
The other dragons laughed and urged their queen to take the Sound Eye.
Let her try! Apep thought, staring at the queen unflinchingly. By freeing the queen and a handful of others from slavery under his father’s rule and bringing them here, he thought they would obey him, but they had not. They had built their army and attacked the humans, but not at his bidding. It’s of no matter. Damn them all. I will kill them all if I have to. By the gods I swear, no one will take the crown from atop my head.
He turned, focusing his attention on the dragon closest to him, still laughing and cursing. He vaguely remembered this one from Karelia, but its name escaped him. It was a magnificent beast, the largest of the six dragons, even larger than Queen Azazel. Its scales sparkled a brilliant metallic blue. Apep narrowed his eyes at the dragon, allowing his own face to contort as he sent the Sentheye forward in a dense gush toward the dragon. The thick liquid shadow wrapped around the dragon’s neck like an oversized lasso. Suddenly its toothy face became a wash of sheer terror as its eyes bulged under the ever-tightening squeeze of Sentheye.
But the Sentheye didn’t stop constricting. Once any hope of capturing a breath was stolen, Apep held out both fists and twisted them in opposite directions as if ringing an invisible rag. “What’s the matter? You’ve stopped laughing. Am I no longer funny!?” The Sentheye began to twist the beast’s neck unnaturally, and its head began slowly turning backward. The dragon tried to scream as blood vessels in its eyes burst – but no sound came.
On Apep’s opposite side a red-scaled dragon screamed. Its scream was not a pained cry, but one of pure rage, building to an angry roar that could only mean one thing. The Sound Eye glowed bright, alternating colors as it appeared to distort his own face. Apep held out an open palm in the direction of the red beast. Fire shot from the angry dragon’s mouth like water shooting from an oversized fire hydrant. The blast of liquid fire churned a trench into the ground as it swept toward Apep, set to swallow him in an all-consuming flash. Nothing on earth – whether manmade molten iron from a foundry ladle, nor natural lava from the heart of a volcano – could compare with the liquid hell barreling toward him.
Yet the elven mage did not panic, or flee… or burn. Instead, the dragon fire changed shape, narrowing into a fine stream thick as a sturdy rope. The rope of spectacular dragon fire streamed into the wizard’s hand, disappearing as easily as a long ribbon in the hands of a magician. But this was no sleight of hand with a ribbon.
The midnight-blue dragon’s eyes rolled back in its head as its neck continued to twist.
Without releasing his grip on the Sentheye, Apep reeled on the fire-breathing dragon, seething. He would teach these insolent beasts to dare breathe fire in his direction. He opened his mouth and roared until the fire he had absorbed through his hand burst from his mouth in a crescendo of grey-blue flame – dragon fire laced with Sentheye.
All the dragons’ eyes went wide as the red-scaled dragon scrambled backward, trying to escape the flame – but it could not. In a panic, it halted its retreat, opting instead to use its own wing to shield itself. But the wing caught fire and the dragon cried out in agony, falling to the ground atop its wing in an attempt to smother its burning flesh.
“Enough!” Azazel shouted.
Apep shot Azazel a smug sneer as the ground around him smoldered, casting him in smoky shadows. His vision blurred, his hands tingled, and his whole body felt strangely – what? Singed. He felt the weight of the crown pressing down, resting heavily against his ears. The Sound Eye – so much power sat atop his head, but it was all his. He alone was destined for greatness. Destined to be the most powerful being in the universe.
Apep turned back to the midnight-blue dragon, continuing to twist. He wanted to keep twisting until its insolent head separated from its body.
“I said enough!” Azazel shouted again.
Apep released the blue dragon from the grip of the Sentheye.
The dragon collapsed to the ground in a heavy heap, dry soil clouding up around him as he released his breath into the dirt and began gasping greedily for air.
Apep stepped forward through the fog of smoke smoldering up from the scorched earth and spoke in a stern voice. “Queen Azazel, if you want to live, I implore you to listen to my next words very carefully.”
The dragons circling Apep froze in place, motionless. No longer did they
taunt. No longer did they laugh. They were silent now. Their queen too was silent. Apep looked from one to the next, taking time to lock eyes with each. Each looked at him in return, then turned their gazes down to the dirt. They were afraid – as they should be.
There could never be peace between his people and dragons, nor did he ever wish it. As such, he knew better than to try and make promises of peace with them now. “You will listen to me and you will do as I say, or I will strike you down here and now!” he bellowed, his voice echoing down the mountain. “In a few months’ time I will open the portal back to our world. I will overthrow my father with an army of overwhelming force!”
Apep began pacing. “On our planet, many of your kind are slaves to mine. If you want to free them you will bring your army of dragons through the portal and wage war against my kingdom. Once my kingdom is defeated, your kind will be freed and you will go, leaving my kingdom forever, or so help you I will use the power of the Sound Eye to rid Karelia of dragons for all time. I am not threatening you, queen of queens. I am promising you.” Apep paused for effect.
Azazel’s nostrils flared.
“But it needn’t be that way,” Apep said, softening his tone. “Karelia is big enough for all of us, but you must obey me now. What happened in the past is the past. My brother Syldan caused you this grief. He and the human mage destroyed your dragons and placed you in the deep sleep with your enemies. I too was cast in sleep. I escaped, I took the God Stones back, and I freed all of you. Most importantly, I killed the mage and… I killed my brother.”
The dragons shared unsure looks.
The queen’s eyes narrowed as she leaned forward. “Dökkálfar Syldan is dead?”
Apep nodded. “So you see, you have no reason not to trust what I am telling you.” Apep held his palms out, then clenched them into fists. “However, you also have no reason not to believe I will do whatever it takes to claim my kingdom.”
As all eyes fell to Azazel as she stood silent for a long moment. “And what of our God Stone, dökkálfar? Am I to believe you will return it to me when you are king?”
Apep forced a wide smile to stretch across the sharp features of his face. “Of course. When this is over and I am king, your God Stone shall be returned.”
“We want to go back to Karelia – to our kind, to our home. We want our dragons freed. However, what you ask is impossible – we cannot wage a war on the dökkálfar army in mere months. We would need years to prepare. We have thousands of eggs here. We must incubate them and then grow our young. If we go in only months, our young would not be hatched. We would have to abandon them. Your people will use enslaved dragons against us. With only six of us, your army will lose, and we will die or become enslaved. No, dökkálfar. I think not. We will stay here. There are many more humans here now for us to feed on. No, we will rule here.”
Apep couldn’t contain his smile and beamed ear-to-ear. “Queen Azazel, what if I told you I can offer you both an army of dragons in a few short months and this whole world to feed them with?”
Azazel flexed her long wings wide and then folded them in upon themselves. “Explain yourself!”
“Perhaps it would be better if I showed you.” He stepped toward the slope and the dragons parted. As he drew near he felt the heat from the soil penetrating his boots. Closing his eyes he spread his arms wide and began to chant. Despite the pain in his joints and tingling in his hands, the Sentheye came forth when called and snaked from his fingertips down toward the ground, forcing its shadowy blue-grey tentacles into the earth.
The dragons gathered behind him, watching quietly as the ground began to quake. A sound like that of breaking bone rang out. First one loud crack, then another, then more. The dirt began to move down the slope as dragon hatchlings pushed free of their shells and up through the rocky soil. First two rows of eight, followed by four more rows, then six, then eight, then ten. The sound of the fracturing eggs changed to the sound of screeching young.
Apep stopped chanting when one hundred hatchlings had broken the surface.
Azazel looked to the Sound Eye crown atop Apep’s head. “You can do this with all my young?”
“I can do better,” he said, beginning a new chant. The Sentheye came rushing from him as it had in Mexico, blue-grey fog drifting down the slope. The hatchlings stopped screeching, breathing in the Sentheye, feeding on it. In seconds they had grown to fledglings – then, stretching their wings, they became juveniles.
A juvenile in the fourth row spit fire, flapped its wings, and lifted off the ground.
Apep involuntarily dropped to one knee as exhaustion overtook him. He quickly forced himself to his feet, hoping the distraction of what he had just done was enough to keep the dragons from noticing, as it wouldn’t be wise to show weakness in front of the queen of queens.
Azazel turned to him. “Impressive. Can you hatch them all?”
Apep nodded. “Not all at once but, yes, over the next few weeks I can grow your army.”
Azazel turned to a silver dragon. “Ahi, rally the juveniles and take them to town to feed. After, gather as many humans as they can carry and bring them back here. It’s time we start enslaving our own humans.”
Ahi nodded. “Yes, my queen.” He flapped his wings as he lifted from the ground.
Azazel turned to Apep. “Why did we not do this from the start?”
“You know why, Azazel. The nephilbock would not allow me to join the God Stones until it was time to open the portal,” Apep said, shielding his eyes from the dust stirred by Ahi.
“But they have changed their mind now?”
“They have seen the wisdom of my decision.”
“And you can build them an army too? They don’t have eggs. Can you simply turn humans into slave monsters for your army?”
No, only you can turn humans into obedient slave monsters, Apep thought, knowing he couldn’t command creatures by simply altering them. But Azazel didn’t need to know that. “I don’t need to. They have an army in the tens of thousands and they are already at my command.”
“Interesting. And where is this army hiding?”
“Azazel, that is of no matter to you. You serve me. They serve me. If you want to war with the nephilbock, you will wait until after I have my kingdom. Now, do you want me to grow you an army and lead your dragons into war and out of slavery, or will you settle for this tiny world while your dragons back on Karelia stay enslaved to me for your failure to obey?”
Azazel’s hateful eyes bore through him. “I will join you in this campaign, young king, but I serve no one less than the god Typhon herself!”
“Whatever,” Apep said, waving a hand. “I need one more thing.”
“What do you want, dökkálfar?”
“Your general, Sylanth, wasn’t killed by the nephilbock it was bound to but by a young human boy. I believe I killed him, in turn, but I need you to send a dragon to be sure.”
Azazel lowered her head down to meet Apep’s eyes. “You expect me to believe a human child killed my general? Even if that were possible, you were there, and you did nothing?!”
“Careful, queen,” Apep said, taking a step forward. “I was there and I did plenty, but I was dealing with many other humans and an angry nephilbock. Sylanth wasn’t exactly in a good mood when they woke either. The boy who killed Sylanth was the descendant of the mage who helped my brother imprison you. His name was Turek. Do you know that name?”
“Yes. He was the mage of old, the one we battled.”
“Yes, but had you heard that name before coming to this planet?” Apep asked.
Azazel hesitated, then said, “No. Not before this planet.”
“You hesitated. Are you sure, Azazel? You never heard the name before coming here?”
“That’s what I said!” Azazel looked away into the distance and her next words came softer than Apep had ever heard her speak. “Sylanth was a rare two-headed dragon. In their own way they were like a queen, very rare. Only one born in five thousand.”
She turned back to Apep, her voice now sharp as a steel blade. “Where is this boy who killed my dragon general?”
“I killed him,” Apep said. “But there was a lot of commotion and I didn’t see his body in death. I need to be sure.”
“What do you require?” Azazel asked coldly.
“I need you to send a dragon to make sure. I want you to torture every human in the town if you have to and when you finish, I want it burned to ash. If the boy is found alive, I want him killed and laid at my feet so I can see for myself. After, he is yours to consume.”
“And if he is already dead?”
“If you find the body, bring it to me. I want to see it. Either way, feast on the town. Leave no one left alive. For good measure burn every town around that one while you are at it.”
“Repair Goch’s wing and I will send him and six juveniles. We will find this boy if he lives, and we will kill, eat, and burn everything else.”
Apep frowned at the red dragon and his shriveled wing devoid of all scales, his flesh charred to the bone.
“Kings must be good for more than destruction,” Azazel said.
Apep rubbed his fingers together and called upon the Sentheye to repair the wing, much like he had used it to repair himself over the last few days of battle. Everything was coming together better than he could have hoped. He would stay here, let the dragons deal with Petersburg. He had a dragon army to grow. In the meantime, Ogliosh would prepare the pyramid and his army would work their way up from the center of the earth.
With the nephilbock at his command, Queen Azazel falling in line, and his earthly enemies defeated, there was nothing to prevent him from opening the portal and going home to claim his birthright and take his place on the throne of Osonian.
I’ll be home soon, father. I’ll be home soon.
57
Follow Your Heart
Saturday, April 16 – God Stones Day 10
Petersburg, Illinois
Garrett entered the “war room” as his brother called it, to find a rotund older man sitting next to a younger guy who he recognized instantly to be an older, more muscular version of Paul. Both men sat on the far side of the really long table in the otherwise stark room. They looked like they had belly-crawled through hell to get here. Neither had seen a razor in some time, and their clothes were tattered, as if they had been living on the street for months.