“You at least need to take the time to put salve on your wounds,” said Zoria. “And this isn’t just about your sensibilities. If we fight as a group, your choices affect all of us.”
Hal scowled at her.
“It isn’t right,” said Hal. “And it will do nothing for my mood.”
“Quit sulking, Halrin,” said Zoria. “Bitch’s blood, you sound like a spoiled child. We aren’t confronting Aangavar to throw our lives away.”
They made their way up the slope and into Fool’s Valley midway through the afternoon. If Vrodas thought it strange that Zoria asked him to wait outside the house while she applied salve on Hal’s wounds, he said nothing of it. The ogre found a sharpening stone in the stables and sat against one of the apple trees, slowly honing a better edge into his weapon.
Hal found some of Laurel’s burn salve in her room and pulled the tattered remains of his shirt off. The burns were on his chest, but also across his back and shoulders, so he opted to let Zoria administer the ointment.
“Would you prefer to be on your bed, master?” she asked, her voice teasing.
“I don’t see a need for that,” said Hal.
“Laurel’s bed, then?”
Hal glared at her, and then winced as her hands began working the salve into his wounds. They were worse than he’d realized, and the pain sent a jolt through his system that stole his breath away.
She worked her fingers over him slowly, and as she finished, her hands moved to explore other, unburned parts of his body. Hal started to shake his head no, but Zoria gave him a fierce kiss, pulling his head back by the hair as they parted.
“In my culture, sex before battle is as common as drinking wine with supper,” she said. “Your surfacers are all a bunch of prude ninnies.”
“This isn’t about your culture,” said Hal. “It just feels…”
Zoria slid his pants down. Her hand was still slick with the oily salve, and she slowly began stroking his cock. The motion of her hand made lewd, oozing noises against his skin.
“How does it feel, master?” whispered Zoria.
She stared into his eyes, and Hal was suddenly sure that she had her own reasons for forcing the sexual encounter. It wasn’t lust or love he saw staring back at him, but opportunity. Zoria sensed his weakness, and knew that she could take advantage of it using pleasure, shifting the power balance back in her favor.
Hal kissed her roughly, pulling her in closer to him. She was still wearing the dress she’d borrowed from Laurel, and quick exploration with his hand informed him that she was naked from the waist down. He seized her by the buttocks and pulled her forward to straddle him, the tip of his erection pushing up against her tight, hot hole. Zoria tried to ease herself back slightly, but Hal held her firmly in place, jamming his shaft between her thighs and into her unbelievably tight lane.
“Ah…” Zoria shivered, her hands resting unsteadily on Hal’s shoulders.
“Careful,” whispered Hal. “What would Vrodas think if he heard you shouting out in passion?”
He squeezed one of her buttocks and pulled her down further on his shaft. It felt amazing, though the sensation only intensified Hal’s guilt. She was right, though, and he knew it. Without his heartgem returning to the form of a ruby, they wouldn’t stand a chance.
Zoria let out a moan as she gave him a deep, probing kiss. Hal felt his lust pushing all thought out of his mind as he rocked her back and forth on his shaft, the chair creaking underneath them as he savored the sensation.
“You… would make a good consort,” whispered Zoria, her voice high pitched and forced.
“Is that so?” said Hal. He pulled one of her breasts loose from her dress, staring into her eyes as he pinched her nipple, and then kissed it. Zoria squealed and shivered.
“Oh…” she moaned. “By the sky…”
Hal pumped into her faster, letting the pleasure guide his rhythm. Zoria was pushing down on his shoulders, trying to keep him from pushing his comparatively large shaft too deep into her. Hal took her by the hands, feeling passion mixing with anger and feelings not meant for her. He buried his erection into her, thrusting with primal intensity.
“M…Master,” moaned Zoria. The word carried only a hint of her usual teasing, and Hal could see in her eyes that she regretted using it a little.
He brought her down all the way, completely sheathing his cock inside of her. Zoria let out a cry of ecstasy and collapsed onto him. Hal pumped several more times, squeezing her buttocks tightly down on his lap, and then unloaded.
CHAPTER 43
The heartgem was still a sapphire, afterward. Hal stared at it, feeling a mixture of disbelief and disappointment. Zoria scowled and paced the floor.
“All the descriptions of the heartgem I’ve heard describe it as a weapon of awesome power,” she said. “None of them say anything about a learning curve. Bitch’s blood.”
“I can feel it,” said Hal. “It’s not just about emotion. It’s about willpower, too. And control.”
If I could just relax and keep my head on straight…
“We’ll miss our opportunity to kill Aangavar if we wait, surfacer,” said Zoria.
“I know,” said Hal. “We’ll keep moving forward.”
They dressed and headed outside. Vrodas was waiting in the same spot they’d left him. Hal wondered if he’d mention their tryst, but the ogre only gave them a nod as they approached. He stood up, his huge sword dangling from one hand, and pointed up the mountain slope.
A forest fire burned in the upper reaches of the mountain, black smoke and red flames giving the normally serene peak an ominous glow. Hal chewed his lip and considered what it meant.
“The dragon is trying to keep us at bay,” he said. “It’s a smart move.”
“It won’t stop us,” said Zoria. “There are countermeasures we can take.”
She led the party over to the homestead’s pond and jumped in without hesitation. Hal watched her pulling herself out, her dress tight and sheer against her petite body, nipples poking through. He felt suddenly hopeful, and glanced at the heartgem again. It was still blue.
“The water will help us move through the flames,” said Zoria.
“It’s an interesting idea,” said Vrodas. “But what if the fire is more intense than this will help with?”
Hal was already stepping into the water. It was shockingly cold, or maybe he just wasn’t ready for it. He submerged and let himself float for a couple of seconds, buoyant and suspended under the surface with the sound of a watery enforced silence in his ears.
“…plan we have at the moment, unless you can think of something better,” Zoria was saying.
“Oh? What? No. Just pointing out its failure points.” Vrodas shrugged. “Worth keeping in mind, after all.”
The ogre submerged himself, and the party set off. The first few minutes of the hike up the slope were familiar, and ran along the path that Hal and Cadrian usually took up to their training spot.
Cadrian. Thinking about his proud, beautiful master, with all her talent in battle and gemstones, made him sorely miss her presence. She would have made the assault feel calculated and deliberate, rather than a death march into a monster’s lair. Or perhaps she would have talked him out of it, brought his focus back to where it needed to be, instead of enabling the worst, most reactive emotions within him.
“The tops of the trees ahead are aflame,” said Vrodas. “We’ll have to stay low.”
“It’s way overhead,” said Zoria. “You’re exaggerating the danger.”
“It’s the smoke,” said Hal. “The heat is secondary to the smoke. It will kill us long before the fire does, if we let it.”
And with that, the party gave up another ounce of dignity, all of them crawling uphill on hands and knees. Light only came through the dense foliage where it could find purchase amidst the forest canopy, and as they entered the section of mountain slope that was actively burning, it became almost black as night from the smoke.
They pushed fur
ther on. Flames licked at the upper branches of the trees, providing a sinister orange red glow. The dragon’s breath had come from above, only penetrating a few feet down into the thick forest. But it had been more than enough, and Hal felt as though he was attempting to sneak through an inferno as he crawled.
Memories of the night his family’s estate was attacked came back to him unbidden. He found it hard to separate the smell of wood smoke from that of charred flesh, and the calls of birds and other fleeing animals warped into desperate screams of dying people.
Hal felt deeply afraid, but not for himself. It was always the people around him getting killed, while he, somehow, soldiered on. Zoria and Vrodas would die painful deaths, and he’d be there to watch, lucky and unlucky for his vantage point. And then the dragon would go after Laurel, finishing her off and leaving Hal alone and broken.
A loud pop came from the party’s left. Hal looked over in time to see a blazing tree falling over, its path bringing it down on top of Zoria, who hadn’t noticed. The moment stretched out, with Hal finding time to pull and cock his pistol as the flaming tree trunk hung in the air.
“No!” He aimed and fired, not knowing what he was doing. He felt sadness and despair, and fear of loss, all swirling in his chest. The emotions spoke to him, gave him an understanding of the power in one's personal pain.
He cast the spell on instinct, as much as through intention. Water from his soaked shirt, along with fresh sweat off his brow pulled together to serve as the catalyst, expanding into a solid, conjured stream that blasted out toward Zoria. It hit her in the back, knocking her forward and out of the direct path of the falling tree.
The tree, already eaten through by fire, exploded into embers as it landed, some of them catapulting out toward Zoria. She didn’t even seem to notice, still protected by the water from Hal’s spell. She looked up at him, her brow furrowing as she realized what had happened.
“You are full of surprises, master.” She flashed a wicked grin and winked at him.
The fires overhead grew more intense by the second, and the party scrambled forward at a punishing pace. Flames began to dictate the path they could take, cutting off the left and the right, forcing them to leap through thin walls of flame at times.
Eventually, they pulled up against the sheer rock wall where the mountain rose into a towering cliff. The fire was pressing in on all sides, and all they could do was edge in close to the rock and follow the base.
“There’s a cave entrance up ahead,” said Hal, shouting to be heard over the sound of the raging fire.
“A cave?” Zoria’s tone sounded understandably skeptical. “We almost died the last time we entered the caves around here.”
“We will die if we don’t escape this fire,” he replied.
They found the cave entrance, which was large enough for Hal to walk through, if he ducked his head. The party was out of choices. Any path back down the slope was quickly being cut off by the fire.
“The air doesn’t smell stale,” said Vrodas. “I think this cave might lead up. Possibly toward the dragon’s roost.”
“How can you smell anything with all this smoke?” asked Hal. He spoke in between coughs, the air becoming harder to breathe by the second.
“I have a very good nose,” said Vrodas, in such a serious tone that Hal was half sure that the ogre was making some kind of joke.
They entered the cave, and were immediately rewarded by cool, breathable air. It was pitch black after the first few feet, and Hal felt Zoria bumping into him from behind as he came to a stop.
“I’ll lead the way,” said Zoria.
She reached out with her hand and summoned her runic spear. It gave off just enough violet light for them to see by, which seemed like a more reliable solution than trying to carry a burning branch with them from the fire outside.
“We should be on guard,” said Hal, drawing his sword. “There’s no telling what the darkness could be hiding.”
CHAPTER 44
They traveled slowly. The cave ran along a single path and sloped upward, which was comforting. The party’s steps echoed deep into the cave, and Hal found himself hoping that the dragon wasn’t close enough to the cave’s exit to be able to hear them coming.
“We’re going to have to rethink our plan of attack,” said Zoria. “Without you having a ruby to channel, it’s going to be more difficult to take the monster on.”
Hal nodded.
“We might be able to surprise it…” he suggested.
“It knows we’re coming,” said Vrodas. “The wildfire outside is evidence enough of that.”
Hal shrugged. “Well, at the very least we can try to distract it, make it leave itself open, somehow.”
He scowled, annoyed by how hard it was to picture their victory in his mind. Assuming they made it out to the other side of the cave, and it was near the dragon’s roost, what then? How would they even begin? Would they just make a desperate charge at it and hope that they could close the distance before it noticed them?
A shape exploded out of the darkness, screaming and flapping wings. Zoria squealed and hopped backward, almost colliding with Hal. A bat circled around once, and then flew past them toward the cave’s exit.
“Well,” said Hal. “I’m glad I’m not the only one feeling a bit tense.”
“I’m not tense,” muttered Zoria. “I’m just… not a fan of bats.”
They continued forward through the cave for another hour. At times, the tunnel narrowed enough to force them to walk single file, or even drop to a crawl to make it through tighter passages. It was still far more traversable than the flaming forest had been, and Hal let himself relax a little.
They entered a section where the path forward was just a thin ledge, with a rock wall on one side, and a sheer drop into a darkness deeper than the light from Zoria’s spear could pierce on the other. The three of them moved forward cautiously, testing each step and making sure the ledge wasn’t about to crumble underneath their feet.
“Hold on,” said Vrodas. “I… smell something.”
“What is it?” asked Hal.
Vrodas sniffed the air, and then suddenly lifted his sword.
“Death,” he said.
They pressed onward, weapons drawn, eventually moving off the ledge and back into another tunnel. It was wider than any they’d passed through before, wide enough to make the limited sphere of light they navigated by seem woefully ineffective.
A deep, hideous moan came from somewhere to their left. Hal whirled, holding his short sword at the ready. He heard a few uncertain footsteps, and then something staggered into the light.
Vrodas moved first, swinging his large sword into a powerful arc. The monster made no move to dodge as Vrodas cleaved its head from its body. It fell to the ground, its legs giving a death twitch as black blood oozed from its neck.
The monster’s skin was pale, probably grey, though it was hard to tell in the violet light. It looked like a human, but the proportions were off to a grotesque extent. Its fingers were long and spindly, its hands attached to powerful arms, but its rib cage was visible through the skin, and its legs were thick and short.
“That’s… a husk,” said Zoria.
“A husk?” asked Hal.
“One of the enslaved,” said Zoria. “There are mages, necromancers, amongst my people who can create them. By draining all of the essential life essence from a person or creature, they turn them into a monster with only basic drives, and no fear of death.”
Hal shook his head.
“Why would someone want to do that to a person?” he asked.
“For war,” said Zoria. “Or entertainment. The better question is, why would the dragon have husks here? They exist by the same rules as you or I. They still need to feed, though they can hibernate to reduce their need…”
Hal only had an instant to consider her question. Several monstrous sounds came from the darkness ahead of them, and the party found itself suddenly besieged on all sides.
“Give me space!” barked Vrodas. He swirled off to the side, cleaving through another one of the creatures and spinning to face two more. Zoria let out a shout as she jabbed her spear through the chest of one as it approached her. The husk wriggled, seemingly indifferent to being impaled on her weapon. Hal carefully severed its head with his short sword to help get her spear free.
Each time Zoria swung her spear, the light it gave off jumped through the cavern, making the battle a dizzying, spastic affair. Hal had to rely on the shape of silhouettes to tell Vrodas apart from the monsters.
One of them leapt at Hal. He swung his short sword reflexively, cutting a deep gash into one of its arms. It continued its approach, completely undaunted. Hal was caught off guard as it grabbed for him with its long, disgusting fingers, pulling his arm out and opening a mouth filled with blackened teeth to take a bite of it. He pushed his sword into its throat before it could, grimacing as disgusting smelling blood oozed onto his hand.
Zoria let out a scream, and the light of her spear disappeared as the runic weapon shattered. The loss of illumination changed everything. Hal’s heart raced, and he swung his sword around foolishly, unable to tell friend from foe. Something bumped into him from the side, and it took all his willpower to hold off from striking.
“It’s me!” hissed Zoria. “My spear was still unfinished. I… I didn’t realize it was so weak!”
Vrodas let out a snarl of pain, and Hal heard something jump and land in the blackness behind him. His worst fears were being realized, and they hadn’t even reached the dragon. His friends would die. He would die, and he only had his own choices to blame.
No! Nobody else dies!
Hal pulled the heartgem loose from his shirt hard enough to put a rip in his collar. He squeezed the gem in his hand, bruising the center of his palm with the strength of his grip. He felt his mind focus completely on one thing and one thing only.
And just like that, he felt the switch happen. He dropped his sword in a rush to pull his pistol from its holster, taking aim in the general direction of Vrodas’s shouts and hoping that his shot went true.
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