Power of the Dragon (The Chronicles of Dragon, Series 2, Book 9 of 10): Dragon Fantasy Series (Tail of the Dragon)

by Craig Halloran

  The emerald seeker sped off.

  Nath’s wings took him as fast as they could. The first thing he saw when he got to the scene was the blood in the snow. Elves, many of them, lay dead. There were scores of holes that had popped up out of the snow bed like erupting volcanoes.

  “No!”

  Ree-rah! Ree-rah! Ree-rah!

  The seeker hovered over the mouth of a cave that appeared to be filled with wurmers.

  Nath flew right at them. He pulled up at the last moment, wings flapping, dropped open his mouth, and let out a torrent of flame. The fires slammed into the wurmers and spread. Snow melted all over the mountain, dripping over the cave mouth like a waterfall.

  The wurmers twisted and burned. Their purple eyes found Nath. Many burned, many died, but the rest attacked like giant hounds.

  Nath launched himself toward the burning fray with Fang pulsating in his grip. He removed Dragon Claw and dropped to the ground. He’d seen enough wurmers for a hundred lifetimes. He didn’t want to see any more. He couldn’t let any more hurt his friends. He plowed into them.

  Slice! Slice! Slice!

  Fang and Dragon Claw cut through the wingless monsters like hot knives through butter. He plunged Dragon Claw into their black hearts. The purple haze in their eyes went out. Their dark acid blood sizzled in the snow.

  Fang split a wurmer from its skull to its tail.

  Not fighting the angry dragon inside him, Nath hacked away with startling speed. His strikes were lightning, his fury a maelstrom. He launched into a spinning attack. The unorthodox move was like putting the wurmers in a meat grinder. They fell in heaps. They died in pieces. Nath was still swinging with the sting of acid in his eyes when he realized all of them, dozens, were now dead.

  Stepping over the piles of bone and scales, he found himself face to face with a shimmering wall of citrine energy. Shoulders heaving up and down, he said, “I know this.”

  On the other side of the force field stood his friends and the host of elves. They were frozen. One of them in particular stood out. The Elderwood Staff burned white at the top. So did the eyes of a peculiar family. “Bayzog!” Nath screamed in elation. He pounded the mystic wall. “Let me in, you fool!”

  The shield dissipated.

  Before Nath crossed the threshold, the stone dragon moaned. Its great jaws snapped.

  “How did I miss you, big fella?” Nath stuck Dragon Claw in Fang and Fang in the ground. With confidence, he strode right up on the leery dragon. Its long tongue had reeled Brenwar just inside its jaw. “No, no, no, no… you don’t want to eat him. You’ll get a bad tummy ache.”

  The stone dragon shook its thick head then paused, eyeing Nath with curiosity.

  Nath knew stone dragons weren’t much on reason. They had brains the size of walnuts. If you encountered one, you needed to treat him with great care. Like most dragons, all of them had something they liked.

  Nath hummed more prettily than a songbird. The melody filled the chamber.

  The stone dragon’s slimy tongue uncoiled.

  Nath stepped inside the monster’s mouth and picked up Brenwar. Still humming, he moved away in slow, steady steps.

  The stone dragon burrowed back into the cave.

  Nath kept the humming up for several minutes. He set Brenwar on his feet and tousled his beard. “I know: Dwarves don’t get eaten.”

  Nath helped Selene up to her feet. She was moving, but slowly. Her eyes said it all: she was fine, and glad to see him.

  The Elderwood Light winked.

  “Bayzog!” Nath leapt clear over to where the part-elf wizard was one with his family. Fists on his hips, Nath said, “Is it truly you?”

  The Elderwood Staff’s gem winked once.

  “I can’t be too sure. Not after what happened to you with who the others thought was Selene. You could be a spirit or a shifter. Is Brenwar your best friend ever?”

  The light winked twice.

  “No, that’s too simple. Let’s try another. Do I like orcs?”

  Two blinks.

  “Is my only vanity my multicolored scales?”

  Two more blinks.

  “Was I always in love with Selene?”

  A pause, and then one blink.

  Nath found himself relaxing more and more. This really did seem like Bayzog!

  “Hm, some more hard questions. Did we always greet each other positively?”

  Two blinks.

  Wow, whoever this was knew of the game the two of them used to play.

  “All right, one more, and let’s make it count. Do you know your place in the scheme of things, that I am Dragon King and was Dragon Prince, above all?”

  Two blinks.

  “I’m convinced. With great joy in my heart, I’m convinced!”

  CHAPTER 29

  “I think I’ve been hugged more in the last day than I’ve been hugged all my life,” Bayzog said as he tried to squeeze out of Nath’s bulging arms. “Granted, I find greater appreciation in it now.”

  Still inside the cave, Nath kept his arm draped over Bayzog’s shoulder. It had taken over an hour, but everyone who had been paralyzed was now freely moving. “I never felt in my heart you were truly gone, my friend. You always lived in there. That other you was so much like you, but he was off a little. I thought that drop in the well had just changed you.”

  “Well, it was me, but it wasn’t. It’s difficult to explain how life works in the Dark Realm. Apparently I was down there three years, but it only felt like an endless day. There was a sun of sorts, which never rose nor fell. It was a wide stream of light that went all the way around.”

  “I don’t care to see it. I’ll take your word for it.”

  Rip sauntered over. He took a knee in front of Nath and bowed.

  “Who is this?”

  “Rip Tippy, legionnaire—a true knight of Barnabus, five hundred years ago. It’s an honor to meet you.” He held out his sword. “My service is yours.”

  “Please stand, Rip. The honor is mine. It’s not very often I meet someone who fought alongside my father in the Great Dragon Wars. I’ll be interested to hear what you have to say about him.”

  “You strongly favor Barnabus, sire. It does my eyes well to see the like of his stern visage again. We will free him. It must be done.”

  Nath gave the warrior a long, hard look.

  Fully bearded, he appeared to be in his thirties, but he came across much older. The prominent jawline suggested his noble ancestry. He was a knight of knights.

  “I’m curious to know what needs to be done. I’m eager to free my father from the darkness that binds him.”

  “Yes, we need to talk, you and I,” Bayzog said to Nath. His violet eyes carried a burden within. “Sasha, Brenwar, Selene, can you give us some time? We’ll catch up.”

  “Don’t yap too long. We have a nest that needs destroying, and Nath still hasn’t told us what he saw yet.” Brenwar led everyone out of the cave, leaving Nath and Bayzog all to themselves.

  “Tell me what you know.”

  “The well of the staagan was a portal to the Land of the Dim Light. It’s a shadow of this world, and also a gateway to the Dark Realm. When I was there, your father reached out from the realm. He aided our escape.”

  Nath raised his brows. “So he’s well then? My heart’s been twisting in my chest. He reached out to me. He said I needed to save him.”

  “He survives, Nath. There are plenty of enemies in the Dark Realm. One such being Gorn Grattack.”

  “I didn’t slay him?”

  “He’s banished, and he’s weak, but still a match for Balzurth, who thrives little better himself.”

  “Is there nothing that destroys evil once and for all?”

  “The spirits are only forever destroyed in their own plane. That’s why they crop up again. Something or someone lets them out. The battle we fight stays in flux.” Bayzog’s gentle fingers, now showing signs of age, ran up and down the wood of his staff. “The only way to truly eradicate evil is
to defeat it on its own plane. However, your father warned me—and you—that at all costs, we mustn’t try this. The attempt will be in vain. Many have tried before but failed.”

  “But you made it.”

  “Yes, but look at the aid I received. There is no ally greater than Balzurth.”

  “How do we save him then? He called out to me, Bayzog. I must be able to do something.”

  “This is the perplexing part, Nath. I cannot reveal the answer to you. I won’t. Balzurth was very clear. His priorities change. He sees the flux that Nalzambor is in. He’ll hold out. But you must continue on your mission. You need to stop these wurmers.”

  Nath lifted Bayzog up to his toes by the neck of his robes. “You’re not telling me?”

  Calmly, Bayzog said, “Not under any circumstances. We must stop the wurmers first. Honor your father, Nath, and don’t dishonor me.”

  He released Bayzog. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. I understand how you feel, but for now, we need to focus on the wurmers. We have to stop them at all costs.”

  “I know, but you have to guarantee me one thing.”

  “What’s that?”

  “You can’t die or disappear in the meantime, because I can’t figure out how to free my father if you’re dead.”

  Bayzog gave Nath a nudge with his staff toward the exit of the cave. “You make it sound like all I’m needed for is my precious information.”

  “That’s pretty much the case. That and the fact that I might need you to help me wipe out a few thousand of the enemy.”

  “Well, it’s a good thing I brought a mighty walking stick.”

  “Yes, you’re going to need it.”

  CHAPTER 30

  Ree-Rah! Ree-Rah! Ree-Rah!

  A V-shaped flock of wurmers streaked beneath the clouds. There were hundreds of them. Sansla and Hoven watched them pass. They continued north. Sansla nodded.

  Moving as one, the roamers and the elves strode through the orcen lands. Thraag wasn’t so different than any other province. The orcs had their fair share of small towns and villages. It wasn’t completely unheard of for them to do business with the other races from time to time. As long as there was money involved, they would deal with anyone, including dwarves and elves who walked on a shadier side of things.

  Orcen farms were large stretches of land that grew root vegetables. Onions, turnips, and radishes were common in their diet.

  The orcs, of which there were many, thrived in the company of gnolls and goblins. Even ogres could be seen pushing or pulling tremendous plows through the fields. For the most part, the orcs were not so different than any other race in their dealings. They were difficult, hard headed, set in their ways, and never thought anyone was more right than them. Their ruler was always the strongest, meanest, and cruelest. He tended to climb his way to the top through murder. Any other government would fall from this, but the orcen people admired strength above all.

  Hoven’s foot got stuck in a muddy onion patch they were passing through. He jerked it free with a sucking pop. “Even their fields remind me of them. Difficult and muddy. They even smell like orcs. How can that be? There are hardly any orcs around.”

  “It’s the sacrifices they make that linger in the air,” Sansla said. “They like the stench. It keeps their enemies away.”

  “They are so foul. How can an entire race of people thrive in slop?” Hoven pulled his leg out of another mud hole. “Even when they aren’t around, they are treacherous.”

  Now they were east of Thraag. Much like the dwarven capital of Morgdon, Thraag rested in the mountains. A huge wall ran along the rugged terrain of the rocky mountain. The wall was made from huge cedars and tall columns of stone. Behind the gates and archways that led inside, stone-and-woodwork buildings could be seen. The dwarves hated Thraag. Orcen engineers had made it like Morgdon, but it was a mockery. The orcs didn’t have the same skill for stonecraft. Their work was shoddy. Orcs constantly worked on repairing Thraag’s great wall.

  Red and black banners hoisted high on flagpoles waved in the wind. Chanting carried over the city’s walls.

  “They’re in full celebration, it seems,” Sansla said.

  “Celebrating what? The war isn’t over yet.”

  “No, but the orcs always have themselves convinced they won the battle before the first drop of blood is spilt.” Sansla trudged out of the onion field onto harder land. “Have you ever known an orc that admitted to losing?”

  “I don’t think I’ve ever had a conversation with one.” Hoven smiled. All the ones I know are dead.”

  Shum and Liam hustled back from the front of the scouting party. They both gave a quick bow. “The force that guards the entrance to the hive has been tripled since we found it, Sansla. Giants and nuurg guardians are fixtures in the rocks. The wurmers, however, are small in number.”

  “We’re talking about a force of five hundred or so then,” Sansla said. “It’s manageable.”

  “That’s about ten apiece.” Liam was thumbing the edge of his elven dagger. “I can handle twenty.”

  “Let’s move on.” Sansla turned his shoulders westward. “I need to get a better look at this force myself.”

  The wurmer hive was straight north of Thraag. Two massive hills covered in rock and shale were shouldered together in the open plains. There were natural ridges lined along the rocks. The cave entrances were large enough for giants to walk through. The strange hillside and the openings that led to the hive gave it the look of an orcen face. There were three holes: two like eyes, a nose in the middle, and a ledge like a mouth, with jutting rocks for teeth. An eerie light illuminated the holes. The shadows of soldiers moved within.

  “It’s a fine hiding spot, right were anyone can see it,” Liam said.

  “It’s orcen land. They wouldn’t be expecting any visitors.” Shum peered through a tiny spyglass. “They don’t appear to be expecting anybody. I think they’ve gotten comfortable relying upon the wurmers that patrol the skies. That explains why we didn’t encounter very many patrols.”

  “Our objective poses many challenges.” Sansla cupped the satchel he wore slung over his shoulder. It carried the Ocular of Orray and many orbs of destruction. “The titan army can see their enemies coming from all directions. Once they spot someone, they’ll launch missiles with those ballistas and shoot with those bows in heavy volleys. There aren’t enough of us to withstand that assault. Additionally, once they are alerted, they’ll send word to Thraag. Those forces will come quickly and, more than likely, in superior numbers.” He shook his head. “This will be difficult, but it must be done.”

  “Sansla, you know we can make it inside that hive.” Hoven brushed his braided hair over his shoulder. “We only need a distraction or three. We’ll draw those soldiers out and slip into their blind side.”

  Hands over his belly, Shum agreed, “Yes, their force might be bigger, but the principle is still the same.”

  Eyeing the entrances to the hive, Sansla said, “We only know what we’ve seen so far. There’s more to this picture. I can feel it. I need a moment to think on this.”

  CHAPTER 31

  The wurmers Slivver had led away had long since returned. An aerial invasion of Elome had begun. Wurmers crisscrossed the skies in waves, dropping huge stones into the habitations of Elome. Rocks the size of people dashed wooden cottages to bits. Treehouses were rattled and busted. The elven children who had once laughed and sung were now crying and screaming.

  Laylana and Inslay stood in the high tree where they’d taken Nath Dragon before. He’d warned them the titan army was coming. Now it had arrived. She stood helpless, watching the ugly lizards open oversized sacks full of rocks way up in the sky. They flew too high for archers or any sort of weaponry to hit.

  “I believe we have reached the point where this is a crisis situation. Our city is being buried in stone.” Inslay drew back his arm and opened up his fingers. His hand brightened. A missile of energy shot from his pinching finge
rs. The bolt of energy shot through the sky like a comet. A wurmer exploded. Its dark scales fell down like rain.

  “You aren’t supposed to be acting,” Laylana warned him. “The High Council—”

  “The high council can go kiss a toad for all I care. I can’t watch this while our people are dying.”

  “And I thought you were firm in your belief that the elves must maintain order during the most chaotic times. We need to follow our leaders.”

  Inslay’s wizened face crinkled. “I’m only acting on the decision they are inevitably going to come to.”

  “I like the way you think, Inslay.” With her hand on the pommel of her sword, she marched to the shaft inside the core of the tree. “Are you coming?”

  Inslay ambled onto the platform. It quickly descended. “I take it you have come to a rash decision.”

  Laylana’s dark locks rustled in the breeze. She tied her hair back into a ponytail. “I wouldn’t say that. I’d say it’s logical.”

  “I’m curious to see what your version of logic is. I see that elven metal on your hip heating up. You’re a fighter, much like Laedorn. He tended to be very direct about these matters.”

  “Yes, and I often catch myself thinking, ‘If Laedorn were here, what would he do?’ After all, he’d still be leading the council.” The platform slowed to a stop. She and Inslay made their way into the streets. She turned her face toward the sky for a moment. “Come.”

  “It was a shame that you were not deemed a suitable replacement for Laedorn. But you are young. I suppose your time will come.”

  “Incoming!” yelled an elven soldier in a treetop. A tombstone-sized rock ripped through the branches, missing the scattering elves by inches.

  Laylana broke into a trot.

  Inslay had no trouble keeping up. He was older, not ancient, his legs still wiry and strong. They made it to the fields behind the grand barns that housed the livestock. The shepherds were moving herds of animals into the sanctuary in the carved-out stone. Many families that weren’t part of the elven army made their way into the tunnels below ground. The fighting forces rushed from one spot to the other, aiding any in need. He lifted his eye skyward again on a gut feeling. “Laylana, move!”