Tears of anger rolled down David’s cheeks. He clenched his fists. “He deserves to die for what he’s done.”
“I agree, but everything in its time. Right now, we need to find Charlotte.”
“And the crystals,” Eric said, his voice raspy. He walked as if he’d been spun in a centrifuge.
Seyekrad laughed, the maniacal sound ripping a hole in David’s core. “You’ll never find them,” he wheezed.
David dropped to his knees. “Yes, we will, and you’re going to take us to them, right now.”
Seyekrad grabbed David by the throat and grinned. “Desire. It’s such a fickle thing, don’t you think?”
Eric’s hand clutched David’s leg as darkness snatched him and threaded him through the eye of a needle. His body contorted, twisted, squeezed, and elongated. Eric tumbled past him, his body a blur. They hit the ground, skidding, sliding, tumbling to a stop.
Seyekrad stood and staggered away.
David groaned and scrambled to his feet. “Come on, Eric. He’s going to ferry again!”
A portal opened. Seyekrad jumped.
David forced his legs to go faster.
Faster.
Faster.
He stretched out an arm and clutched the hem of Seyekrad’s cloak.
David crashed into stone with a tremendous crack. He slumped to the ground.
Seyekrad cackled, opened another portal, and stepped through.
David rolled on his back, his breathing heavy, and expelled a string of expletives that would make a knight blush. How had he failed again? How had he allowed Seyekrad to pull out the darkest part of him that enjoyed inflicting pain? It got him nowhere except alone.
Like Charlotte. Like Eric. He’d lost them both. Some great protector he was.
He rolled on his side and pounded his fist into the ground.
What was he going to do now?
He pressed the heels of his palms to his tired eyes. His head pounded but a sense of calm and determination engulfed him. He was a butterfly in a chrysalis waiting for his transformation.
He was also in the dark. Literally.
He felt around and found his bow and quiver and placed them on his back, keeping the stone wall close by. He reached in his back pocket to remove the hard lump digging into his butt, and pulled out his cell phone. Elation rippled through him as he swiped. A picture of him and Charlotte at Java Joe’s lit up the shattered screen. Instant light, but only sixty percent battery power. He sucked his bottom lip. Use it or not? He scrolled through his icons, found the flashlight, and tapped it.
His surroundings came into view.
His breath left his lungs in one exhale.
He was in a cave, a tunnel of some kind. The walls appeared jagged and rough near the bottom, smooth and worn up top. He directed the light upward. Sloughed skin, similar to snake skin but a hundred times thicker, hung in shredded sheets from the ceiling. Pieces clung to the chamber walls. His nose wrinkled at the faint scent of spoiled eggs, the air dank and feral. And then it hit him. He knew where he was. Einar’s lair. How long had it been since Einar escaped? Fifty years? Now he stood in a prison meant to hold a dragon beneath a massive lake with no way out.
He leaned against the wall and laughed at the irony of it all.
Until a tingle on his skin beneath the rutseer grabbed his attention.
He pulled the pendant from his shirt. He blinked and bottled his breath. Along the outer rim of the rutseer a green light glowed. Electricity arced within.
“What the hell?”
He shoved off the wall and turned to his left.
Zap!
The bolt from the necklace blasted his chest.
“Ouch! Alright! I get it! Not that way! Sheesh,” he shouted at the pendant, as if it cared.
He turned to his right and took a step.
The electricity within the ball danced and sparked.
“Hmm, you like that, huh?” He continued walking, slow, one eye on the cave, the other on the pendant around his neck. With each step, the ball grew brighter, more agitated. David shone the light around the chamber. He pointed the rutseer up at the ceiling.
Sizzling red arcs flew out from the edges.
He jerked his hand back down, the electric tendrils zapping his skin. “Okay, okay, I get it. Whatever you want is not up there.”
He kept walking.
And then the rutseer glowed a solid green. The electrical currents converged into one stream, illuminating the center with a bright white dot.
David looked up, to his sides. “What do you see?”
Seeing nothing, he looked down at his feet. There, where the ground was rough and uneven, an elongated gem gleamed white.
He stifled a yell, his heart rat-a-tatting in his chest. Could it be? Had he found a crystal? Was Aldamar right? He collected the crystal and turned it over in his palm. Rainbow colors refracted off the triangular prism. It was an exquisite piece, and Seyekrad would be pissed to discover it was gone.
He pocketed the crystal and continued walking the lair, brushing skins and cobwebs out of the way. Deeper and deeper he went, for how long he didn’t know—one, maybe two hours. His feet and back ached, but he kept moving until he could go no more. He was tired, worn out. There was nothing left. He’d been beaten, battered, banged around. His energy was gone. He sat next to a wall that was round and smooth, no doubt from all those year Einar traveled the path. He pressed his head to the wall and thought of Charlotte. Where was she? Was she scared? Was she still alive? He smacked his head. No, he wasn’t going there. Of course, she was alive. She had to be. He yawned and closed his eyes. He needed to rest. Clear his mind. Start new.
He was on the edge of a dream when the rutseer grew warm in his hand. He opened his eyes. The rutseer glowed green once more. His heart sped up as two streams of light flared out, each illuminating different stones, one on his left, the other on his right. He followed their points and looked downward. In the dirt below were the last of the crystals. He scrambled to them and plucked them from the ground.
David chuckled and kissed them and the rutseer. “You are one sweet piece of magic.”
A drop of water fell on his hand and he glanced up. Another plopped on his forehead. Another on the ground.
Plop, plop. Plop, plop.
David squinted closer at the ceiling. A line of water traversed a crack he hadn’t seen before.
Plop, plop, plop, plop.
Faster and faster they came until the droplets turned into a curtain of water.
David couldn’t breathe. His skin broke out in a cold sweat. His fingers trembled, his legs shook. No. He couldn’t come this far to die like this.
The ceiling above him groaned. More water rained down. Mud swelled at his feet.
He tossed his head back.
“God, if you’re there, please get me out of this.”
He shut his eyes and muttered, Accelero Silentium.
A deluge of water struck him with such a force he dropped to his knees.
“That isn’t the kind of help I need!” he shouted. He swept his wet hair back from his eyes and stood.
An explosion sounded behind him followed by a deafening roar.
David ran, his legs pumping as fast as they could go. He twisted and turned around bends. The ceiling creaked and groaned. Water seeped through the walls as his prison collapsed.
He fled around another corner and came to a stop, a wall before him and no other tunnels to be found. He turned toward the rushing water coming at him. If he was going to die, he would look death in the face.
He stood strong, his shoulders back.
The wall of water, as high as the ceiling, barreled toward him.
Come on. Take me. All I ask is that you make it quick.
Images of Charlotte and her first puppy sprang to mind. His first trophy. Lily’s apple pie. The day he met Eric. His make-out session with Charlotte. So many memories to take with him.
So much to be grateful for.
He tilted back his head and yelled at the top of his lungs, “I love you, Charlotte.”
The water crashed down.
A portal opened.
And a hand grabbed him through to the other side.
Eric
Eric ran uphill until his lungs burned. “David!” He cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled louder. “Daaa-viid!”
Birds twittered and chirped in response. A strong, objectionable odor of rotting grapes assaulted his nose. It was cloying, not sweet, heavy even. There was only one place where such a smell could exist.
Tortello. Wine country.
At the top of the mound he looked around, trying to get his bearings. The landscape stretched wide, but something was wrong. The once green terraces had grown tired and brown. The cypress trees sagged, their roots thirsty for water. He scurried through the wilted sentries and stumbled upon a dry, hard road. A wine merchant approached from the south, his wagon weighted with barrels of his merchandise. Eric waved him down.
“Sir, how far are you traveling today?”
“Windybrook. What’s it to ya?”
“My name is Eric. I am a squire at Gyllen. My horse spooked near Bragsworth and I’ve been walking ever since. I am exhausted and would very much appreciate a ride.”
“Where’d ya get them clothes? Never seen nothin’ like them and I’ve seen some strange things in my day.”
Eric glanced down at his jeans and sneakers. He’d completely forgotten about his attire. He had to think of something fast.
“I met a merchant from Gramata. He got them from portal jumpers.” Was there even such a thing? “While in the Port of Lar a band of thieves robbed me of my things and stripped me of my clothes. The merchant felt sorry for me and was kind enough to toss these my way. I know they are odd, but I must say, they are quite comfortable.”
The merchant nodded and gestured for Eric to climb aboard.
“Thank you, sir. And my body thanks you, too.”
That part wasn’t a lie. His entire body ached and he swore in that moment he’d never fight a sorcerer again, but he knew that was a lie as much as the two he’d spoken on the road. Regardless, it got him a ride and he’d be back at Gyllen before nightfall.
The cart bumped and creaked over the pitted road. Eric and the driver rocked and swayed.
“When was the last time it rained?”
“Fallhollow hasn’t seen no rain since Einar attacked, just over a month ago. The grapes are fermenting on the vines, rotting long before their pick time. I’m on my way to Windybrook to sell the last of my goods. If it don’t rain soon, I’m gonna pick up my family and leave Hirth. A lot of folks have already left for the islands on the far side of the Jade Sea, maybe the Spice Isles of Gramata. I might need to think of gaining passage for my family upon a schooner. Take my chances, ya know?”
Eric nodded. He didn’t know, but it was clear the man had given it plenty of thought and was prepared to sacrifice everything he had for the promise of a safer place for his family. Who could find fault with that?
They rode in silence for the most part with Eric napping now and then. He longed for a warm bed. Food. More importantly, news of Charlotte and David. Where were they? How had he and David separated? How would he ever find them?
They arrived at Windybrook mid-day. The driver struck a deal with Eric: he’d provide front door delivery to Gyllen castle in exchange for unloading the full barrels and replacing them with empty ones.
Eric agreed.
Keeping true to his word, the merchant delivered Eric to the main courtyard of Gyllen just as the pinks and purples of sunset feathered the sky. He told the man to wait as he ran into the knights’ quarters, found a gallion, and returned with payment. The man thanked him and with a click of his tongue, the horses whinnied and the cart rumbled over the cobblestone and through the ruins of the gatehouse.
The grounds were vacant but for a few laborers hauling debris away. Chickens pecked at the dry soil. The magnificent wisteria tree drooped, its once lush, purple tendrils now brown and brittle. The warm air compressed around him and he suddenly longed for the shower he’d had at David’s.
He ran up the steps to the upper courtyard and through the castle’s doors. A servant scurried across the Grand Hall, her arms full of drapes.
“Excuse me,” Eric said. “Can you tell me where everyone is? The place feels abandoned.”
The girl dipped her head and curtsied. “I’m sorry, sir. Everyone has left for war, all except for the queen.
Eric’s breath caught in his throat.
“When? When did they leave?”
“Yesterday, sir.” She curtsied. “I must go. I do apologize.”
She scurried off.
Yesterday. He still had time to catch up to them. With Trog.
Eric hurried up the winding staircase to the royal suites. He’d prepared his words to convince the guards to let him through, but they were gone. Did they go to war, too? A knock on the door presented the queen herself.
“Eric!” She snatched him into her arms. “Where have you been? I’ve been worried out of my mind. So has Mirith. He’s been pining away—”
Eric’s jaw tightened. His stomach twisted. “Mirith is here?”
“Yes. He’s in David’s suite. He refuses to leave.”
“Is he all right?”
“He appears to be. Perhaps a bit despondent, but that is to be understood. Why the sudden concern for David’s pet, and where did you get those horrid clothes?”
“I’ll explain later!”
He fled down two flights of stairs without a word and barged into David’s room. Mirith lifted his head and swept his tail to the side. A soft purr emanated from deep within.
“Hey, Mirith. How are you doing?” He sat on the edge of the bed and scratched behind Mirith’s ear all the while looking for damage to his scales. “I can’t wait to hear how you escaped. Did you eat that gargoyle and some shadowmorths?”
Mirith snorted.
“Yes. I thought so.” He slipped from the bed to the floor and got face to face with the dragon, realizing in that instant that his head could fit in the beast’s mouth, and that he could lose his head in one bite if Mirith chose to do so. Eric hoped he didn’t want to do so.
He looked in Mirith’s big eyes that seemed a milky red, and stroked his head.
“Listen. I don’t know if you can understand me, but here’s the situation. Seyekrad and Bainesworth are trying to take over the realm. Bainesworth kidnapped Charlotte, which really upsets me, and he was taking her to Einar, which means, she’s probably in line to become a shadowmorth. I can’t let that happen because I have grown quite fond of her. She’s unlike anyone I’ve ever known. She’s the only one I have that makes me feel complete, like the world is okay. Like I’m okay and not a complete failure. Do you understand?”
Mirith whimpered and rested his chin on David’s bed.
“Ah, you want to know about David. Well, I don’t know where he is. He and I ferried with the cretin, Seyekrad, but David ferried with him a second time, and I don’t know where they went. We need to find him, Charlotte and Trog. Are you with me so far?”
Mirith’s legs slid forward and he laid his head on the floor. Sadness hung in his eyes. Eric sighed. How did David communicate with him?
He looked around the room and found two bronze warrior statues on the table beside the bed. He grabbed them down and looked at Mirith.
“Okay. I need you to pay attention, you crazy dragon. See this guy?” He held up the statue in his right hand. “This is David. Got it? David.” He held up the other one in his left hand. “You see this one? He’s Seyekrad. Bad guy.” Eric started beating David with Seyekrad while making gruff fighting noises.
Mirith growled.
“That’s right. This bad, bad sorcerer wants to kill David.”
Bam! Bam! Bam!
Mirith grunted and growled
again and stood. He shook his mane and a couple of orange feathers came loose and floated to the ground. His eyes grew dark red and his stance bulky and angry.
“That’s right. We need to kill Seyekrad and Bainesworth so we can find David. Okay?”
Mirith snarled, grumbled, and bellowed. He scraped his foot across the floor.
Eric stroked his head. “Good boy. Let’s say we get packed up and get ready to go?”
“That’s the most energy I’ve seen from him since he arrived,” Mysterie said, standing in the doorway.
“I had to give him something to fight for.” He held up the statutes before tossing them on the bed.
Mysterie entered the room. “I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation with Mirith. I’m not surprised to hear of Seyekrad’s or Bainesworth’s nefarious activities. I’ve warned Gildore and Trog about it many times. They knew, too, but had no proof.”
“I figured as much. Mirith, come on. I have to pack some things before we leave.”
Mysterie touched his arm as he brushed by.
He stopped and looked at her, at the living, breathing identical image of his mother. He swallowed. “Ma’am?”
“I want you to know you have never been a failure, Eric. Your father loves you very, very much. He adores you, even envies you in some ways. Right now, he is broken and beside himself, blaming everything that has happened on himself. For him, for you, please find a way to put all this animosity aside. Please find a way to forgive him.”
He smiled. “I already have, my queen.”
“Will you tell him?”
“Yes, ma’am. I promise to do so as soon as I see him. Do you know where they went?”
Mysterie paused for a moment. Her breath caught in her throat. “The Valley of Tears,” she said with pained effort.
That was not the news Eric wanted to hear. The Valley of Tears was a place of murder, where souls were ripped from the dead and rebirthed into shadowmorths. Why in all that is great in heaven would they choose that as their battle site? It baffled his mind.
“How many men did they gather?”
“They are ten thousand strong, but I fear that will not be enough against Einar and his army.”
Rage of the Dragon King Page 20