Dragon Heart

by Kirill Klevanski

  “Damned barbarian!” Glen ran over to Hadjar and grabbed him by the collar of his caftan. “Didn’t your mother teach you to look where you walk?”

  Hadjar’s eyes flashed with malevolent fire and he was reaching for his sword when Einen’s staff appeared between him and the Baliumian.

  “If you want, Glen,” the islander said quietly, “you can go first. None of us would mind.”

  Hadjar cooled down as quickly as he had become enraged. Before Glen turned away, he saw the disappointment in the Baliumian’s eyes. Only then did Hadjar feel the sting of the scar on his palm left behind by the oath he had sworn. The Baliumian wasn’t as simple as he appeared! He’d acted rather well on someone else’s orders.

  Hadjar turned to Ramukhan, but couldn’t catch the sorcerer’s eyes. He averted his gaze, pretending to study their surroundings. They stood in the middle of what appeared to be a wide hall at first. There were towering columns on both sides, depicting various animals: a hippopotamus standing on its hind legs and supporting the ceiling with its forelegs. A monkey that was sitting in a lotus position. Its tail served as its chair, and the top of its head was also supporting the ceiling. A heron with wings that formed a bed. A peacock with a beautiful tail.

  “I wonder if those are emeralds…” Glen’s eyes devoured the jewels set into the bird’s plumage.

  Hadjar understood him perfectly. The emeralds made him want to pull out a carving dagger and try to dig them out as well. Hadjar apparently had a stronger will than... everyone else. Even Einen, like a puppet in the hands of an inexperienced puppeteer, jerkily staggered toward the jewels.

  “It’s a trap!” Hadjar snapped at them.

  Skirting past the other squad members, he cut through the air with his sword. A blue crescent passed by them. It left another long furrow in the floor, but did its job and countered the spell.

  “Demons,” Glen croaked, turning away from the alluring glint of the emeralds, “this place is going to kill me.”

  “If one of us doesn’t do it first,” Tilis snorted, apparently forgetting her recent vow.

  “Come on,” Ramukhan said. “And by the Evening Stars, be careful.”

  Chapter 400

  They were walking across a wide and long platform. It looked like a hall, but then it became clear that there was some sort of gap between the floor and the walls, and that all the columns were actually behind the gap, not in front of it.

  The first trap on this stone bridge (it was the best comparison given the fact that the platform floated through the air) was intended to weed out the people who’d passed the first test by chance, and not because of their own skills. If not for Hadjar and his strong will, the squad members would’ve fallen into a bottomless abyss. Glen told them all about it. Dropping to his stomach, he crawled over to the edge of the platform and leaned his head down.

  “May all the demons of the Fire Hall love me!” He shouted in his native language. No one except Hadjar understood this strange curse. “It’s at least three miles deep.”

  “What’s at the bottom?” Tilis asked.

  “Pikes.” The Baliumian said, “There are a lot of skeletons impaled on them. There are mountains of bones below.”

  “So, there’s no doubt about it, we aren’t the first people to get this far,” Ramukhan nodded.

  Hadjar looked behind him. He had no doubt that they’d entered through the only entrance to this infernal place. But… How could the collapsed staircase have become an ancient one with a faded pattern after other people had already used it?

  “It makes no sense to ask questions that can’t be answered,” Einen patted his friend on the shoulder and adjusted his white bandanna. “Let’s go. We may die soon anyway, so stop fretting.”

  Sometimes, Hadjar wanted to hit his friend on the head with something heavy, but he restrained these urges, which were, however, still noticed by the islander. Einen answered him with a condescending smile.

  This time, the squad moved forward slowly. They took each step as carefully as possible, their feet barely touching the slabs at first. The stone floor they were walking on wasn’t a monolithic structure, but many connected, three-foot stone slabs instead. Different animals were depicted on each of them. The animals came in a variety of colors and were shaped like the columns that surrounded the platform.

  “Oh, it’s no use,” Glen wailed as the light from his oil lamp revealed the shape of another animal. “Do you think they’re just like-”

  “Shut up!” The rest shouted at him, but it was already too late.

  Mage City interrupted his griping. The Baliumian took a step forward and stepped on the image of a heron. The slab shook, and then, with a creak, it dropped straight down, toward the glittering blades at the bottom of the abyss. Einen kept Glen from falling. The islander reached out his staff to the Baliumian. Clutching it like a drowning man, Glen jerked himself back up.

  “For the-”

  This time, it was Ramukhan who didn’t get to finish his sentence. Around the perimeter of the platform, all the columns with herons on them began to move. Shaking off their centuries-long slumber, they lowered their wings. The monolithic ceiling that towered above the platform trembled slightly, and shards of stone fell from above. Having lost about a ninth of its supports, it sagged noticeably and became heavier.

  “Damned Baliumian!” Ramukhan roared, leaping backwards to avoid stone feather-spears that were flying toward him.

  All the statues of herons began to flap their wings. With each flap, feathers shot out from their wings. Whistling through the air, they flew into the now open grooves on the opposite side of the walls.

  The sorcerer, after dodging the first hail of spear-feathers, landed on a slab with the image of a hippopotamus. Hadjar could already see what was going to happen next. Just as he’d expected, the river monsters also shook themselves out of their stone slumber and began to move.

  Blurring into the shadow of the Seven Ravens and leaping over a stream of boiling tar spat out by one of the giants, Hadjar caught Ramukhan before he fell over the edge. Pulling the sorcerer back, he stood with him on a slab that depicted a sleeping heron. The rest of the squad, noticing that the floor beneath Hadjar wasn’t going to fall away, also hurried to jump onto the same images.

  Spear-feathers and clumps of boiling tar flew all around the perimeter of the platform. Fortunately, they were flying in a straight line and only coming out of the mouths or from the wings of the awakened statues.

  “Only step on the images of the sleeping beasts!” Hadjar shouted.

  Holding a protesting Ramukhan under his arm, he dove through the next glob of tar and landed on a slab with a sleeping lion. Hadjar didn’t want to see what the lion statues around the edges of the platform could do. For the next few minutes, the squad members leapt over the stones, dodging shells as they did so.

  Everyone was smart enough to avoid trying to block or repel the attacks. For practitioners and witches of their level, they were harmless enough. But if the feather-spears or tar touched the inactive panels, the trap would get more complicated.

  “Look out!” Einen shouted.

  A chunk of rock broke away from the ceiling, which was shaking and cracking more intensively now. It fell toward Glen and Tilis. There were moments when instincts could save a warrior’s life, but sometimes the opposite happened. Before his mind could take control of his body, Glen drew his sword and sent a thin disk of golden light flying. It silently and easily cut the multiton piece of rock into several pieces. However, Glen’s face didn’t show any joy. Rather, he was dismayed. Chunks of the stone crashed down on the platform and rolled across it, crushing a number of the slabs. With a creak, they tumbled down and fell into the abyss. Three other kinds of statues were now shaking themselves out of their stone slumber.

  The serpents, now coiled and no longer supporting the ceiling, opened their mouths wide. Acid flew out of them and mere drops of it were enough to begin to melt even those slabs that depicted sleeping
animals.

  The monkeys began throwing burning stones the size of a baby’s head. Leaving behind trails of smoke, they also landed in the now open niches.

  The lions that had intrigued Hadjar so much did nothing. They sank down and also ceased supporting the ceiling. Then they opened their mouths and snarled, and the other beasts, as if obeying their king’s order, went wild. The monkey’s shells were everywhere, no longer following a pattern. They began to crush the walls and still sleeping statues. The ceiling, which had lost most of its supports, began to sink and crumble. Stones rained down and knocked the slabs onto the pikes.

  “The exit!” Hadjar pointed to a stone door a mile away. Behind it, a steady, blue light glowed.

  Carrying Ramukhan on his shoulder, Hadjar blurred into the shadow of the Six Ravens. This time, he just had to run in a straight line. Hadjar smiled foolishly as he deflected the statues’ attacks — all of this reminded him of an obstacle course he’d used to run through back at the Bear squad’s training grounds. Except the ground hadn’t used to slip out from under their feet and send the soldiers flying into an abyss back then.

  As he swung his sword, Hadjar saw other statues waking up and larger chunks of rock falling away from the collapsing ceiling. Glen cried out as his thigh was grazed by a stone spear. Einen gritted his teeth as acid struck him. Fortunately, it had only grazed his shoulder. Even then, it immediately turned red, and then his skin began to burst, exposing graying patches of rotting meat.

  Taking aim, Hadjar swung his sword again. The blue-and-black crescent was right on target. It didn’t hit Einen head on, but hissed by an inch from his wounded shoulder. The echo of the attack was enough to cut away the affected tissue. Einen nodded as him and Tilis glided through the shadows. They arrived at the exit at almost the same time. Hadjar had had to help his companions out, sending attacks out in all directions.

  As everyone landed on the other side of the arch, it collapsed behind them, blocking their view of the crumbling platform. This time, they were in an oval-shaped room. Small blue spheres whirled around the ceiling.

  Hadjar was just about to say something when one of the spheres, leaving a shimmering trail behind, spun and flew straight at his chest. After dodging it, Hadjar stared at the hole in the floor the size of his fist. The little ball of death had left it behind when it had melted through it.

  “Fuck everything

  …”

  Chapter 401

  “Jump!” Einen held out his staff.

  Hadjar, exhaling in annoyance, started running. The bridge was already crumbling beneath him, and there, at the bottom of the abyss, were giant, fanged lizards. They clambered over each other and opened their mouths menacingly only a few yards below Hadjar’s feet.

  Pushing off from the cliff, Hadjar leapt over the precipice. The gigantic creatures’ heavy jaws snapped beneath him. His heart was beating so hard that Hadjar couldn’t hear the other squad members’ shouts and the grinding of the lizards’ chitinous shells rubbing against each other over the noise.

  In the middle of his leap, he realized that he wouldn’t be able to reach the staff. A distance of twenty yards was too great for even a strong practitioner like him to overcome. Einen also saw that his friend wouldn’t make it and unwound his belt with a sharp movement of his hand. Jumping into the abyss, he threw out his hand. The belt he was holding came alive and wrapped itself around a nearby pillar.

  Hadjar grabbed the islander’s staff. They slammed into the edge of the cliff together. A few feet below them, hungry predators kept trying to reach them. The lizards’ red eyes glowed. They swarmed like an anthill, crawling over each other, desperate for the chance to taste human flesh.

  “Pull!” The islander cried.

  At first, nothing happened. Hadjar thought that they would end up dangling above the abyss until their demise. No matter how strong the islander’s silk belt normally was, it was already beginning to tear under their combined weight. The two friends sank lower and lower, toward the precipice, with every second that passed.

  When the monsters’ jaws snapped shut so close to him that Hadjar had to curl his legs to avoid losing his feet, they began to rise. Slowly at first, but as the crackling of the silk increased, their ascent became faster.

  Einen was the first to be pulled up to the stone ‘balcony’. He reached down and grabbed Hadjar by the collar and yanked him up as well. Hadjar spread his arms wide to embrace the cold stone and laughed nervously. Einen sat down beside him. He reeled in his torn belt.

  “By the Evening Stars,” Glen said, “this trap is at the top of my personal ranking.”

  “I liked the waterfall of acid, myself.” Karissa patted her pocket, where she now kept a small bottle filled to the brim with that acid.

  For several hours, they had continuously struggled out of the clutches of death caused by one trap only to fall into another, even deadlier one right after. These adventures had left them in bad shape: they were ragged, covered in blood, bruises, and abrasions, not to mention the several bandaged wounds. They had almost lost their nerve. Tilis hadn’t said a word in the last three rooms, which was unheard of for her. Glen made fewer jokes and only frowned at Hadjar and Einen sometimes. Ramukhan held his glowing staff tightly enough to make it creak.

  The room with the bridge and the lizards had been a nightmare for them. They’d gone through a room where they’d had to solve complex puzzles while standing waist-deep in the rising water. They’d navigated mazes filled with a variety of small traps. They’d leapt over precipices teeming with deadly creatures, or boiling lava, or tar, or acid — just name it, they’d probably leapt over it.

  The last room had been the quintessence of their whole journey through the area so far. First, they’d had to solve a puzzle while dodging fireballs. That had involved making a huge hieroglyph out of different stone pieces and placing it in a groove. They’d managed to do so only thanks to Einen’s help. The islander had run around the room like a monkey and deflected the fireballs. They left behind liquid flames, igniting the water, which had kept rising. Tilis had turned it to ice, sweating from the strain. She’d barely managed to handle the increasing amount of liquid and the growing heat.

  After the hieroglyph had been assembled, the floor beneath them had cracked and collapsed. They’d fallen toward sharp rocks, but had managed to grab onto some hanging vines. Using them to move forward, leaping from vine to vine, they had moved to the other side and entered a new maze. In addition to the traps, there’d been an odd lizard creature inside it as well. One that was almost as large as the golem they’d encountered in the desert. For the first time since he’d met Azrea’s mother, Hadjar had come face to face with a beast whose power was equal to the dead tigress’ own. It would’ve been useless to try and fight such a monster. In addition, the pathways of the maze had kept narrowing. So, they’d run from one dead end to another, listening to the lizard’s growling coming from behind them, once again solving puzzles and racing their own deaths.

  In the center of the maze, they’d found a trapdoor that had led them to the bridge, which, as soon as their feet had touched its surface, had begun collapsing, exposing a chasm full of small lizards.

  They were now once again standing on a stone ‘balcony’ with a door in front of them. It was made of stone and decorated with the same exquisite carvings and intricate ornaments they’d seen pretty much everywhere thus far.

  “There must be a secret mechanism somewhere,” Glen said, scratching his head and touching the door.

  “No, we’ve dealt with one already,” Ramukhan, crouching down, began to fumble around on the floor. “Let’s look for a lever.”

  “We’ve dealt with a lever, too,” Karissa said, and began to study the ornaments. “Perhaps we need to connect the lines of the patterns to make some kind of symbol.”

  Hadjar didn’t bother reminding them that they had encountered such an obstacle before. Right after the hall with the statues of animals that had come to life and spi
t out all sorts of junk, in fact. It was so long ago that Hadjar had almost forgotten what had set the columns in motion in the first place.

  For about half an hour, the squad tried to open the door, but failed. They tried everything: finding a lever, fiddling with the ornaments, which really did move. However, whatever patterns they made, nothing happened. The door stood unmoved, and in the background, the lizards roared and tried to climb up to the ‘balcony’.

  Glen was about to hit the door with his sword, but the rest stopped him. They didn’t want to find out what would happen if they tried to brute force the ancient puzzle. Hadjar suddenly came up with such a simple, but at the same time, not exactly obvious, guess. Taking a deep breath, he said:

  “Open.”

  “Are you-”

  No one was surprised that Tilis didn’t get to finish her sentence. The ornaments on the door moved. Only they didn’t move because of their tinkering, but acted as if they were alive. They assumed the form of an unknown hieroglyph. A bell rang with a heavy, noisy clang, and the door opened. At first, because of the abundance of blue light, they had to close their eyes against the glare, and then everyone let out a groan of relief and an exclamation of surprise.

  They saw a bridge of the finest workmanship and great beauty. Made of the same stone as everything else so far, it still somehow gave the illusion of being a tree. Swaying to some unseen breeze, it led down into a sea of blue light, where thousands of shelves stood. They were tiered and had many columns, walls, display cases, shelves… It all looked close to infinite.

  There were books everywhere: they stood in neat rows, lay in piles, flew through the air, and some were even encased in spheres of blue light. In addition to the books, they saw numerous scrolls, clay tablets, stone tablets, even ropes with knots, which were obviously a kind of text too.

  “How many books are there?”

  They were crossing the bridge as the door closed behind them.