Clutch Of The Cleric (Book 4)

by Craig Halloran

  There were eight of them in all. Light and dark headed. Fair skinned and tanned. Adorned in soft and intricate robes. The tallest was half a foot shorter than me, the shortest half a head taller than Brenwar. Their expressions were stern, but friendly.

  I knew two of them and nodded.

  They led us to another open room with a large oval table. It looked more like it was grown than carved.

  “Dragon Son, it’s good to have you among us again,” one said. “I see Akron is still honored in your possession.”

  “Yes, Laedorn,” I said. “Your excellent gift has never failed. Put a lot of new holes in Orcs, I’ll say.”

  He chuckled. “Those were the days,” he said. “So, Nath, I see you’ve changed since last we met? Is that what brings you here? I understand you seek the Occular of Orray?”

  I wanted to shrug. I in this by the prompting of my friends and for the benefit of Shum and his King. I felt great.

  “Yes,” I said, “my friend Bayzog believes it might heal me.”

  Laedorn’s eyes drifted between Shum and Bayzog. The other Elves’ eyes did as well. I could feel the tension among them. Something old. Unsettled.

  Laedorn rested his eyes on Bayzog. Smiled briefly at Sasha.

  “Bayzog, you should visit with your family. They miss you. But they respect your privacy. They don’t anticipate your arrival, but that’s up to you.”

  “Tell them I’ll return when the time is right,” Bayzog said,” but that time is not now. Certainly the Elves are aware that damp winds have begun to prevail. The seasons change. Rapidly.”

  “We know this. The evil races are emboldened. Their skirmishes increase. They’ve crossed our lands and hunted our game. Testing us day in and day out.” Laedorn’s brow furrowed. “Tell me what you have learned of the Occular of Orray?”

  Bayzog furrowed his own brow. “It can heal anything. Curses. Lycanthropy. Disease. I’ve even read it can take you from one time to another. Perhaps it can return Dragon back to form. Take him back to before the trouble started.”

  “Possibly.”

  “But,” Bayzog said, “it’s been taken. Stolen. Scattered in six pieces all over this world. Taken from right underneath the Elves’ noses. A hundred years after the last war.”

  “You suppose,” Laedorn said. “But you do not know for certain.”

  “And you do, Laedorn? Are the histories wrong? My sources polluted?”

  The Elves at the table muttered in Elven among themselves. There weren’t speaking thoughts so much as grumbling at one another. I spoke Elven and many other things, but they muttered with uncertainty.

  “Enough,” Laedorn said. He turned his focus to Shum. “And what is your interest in all of this, Rover Shum?”

  “I’m in it for my King, Sansla Libor,” Shum said.

  The Elves stirred.

  “There is no king but the one Elven King,” Laedorn said. His eyes narrowed. “Mind your manners.”

  “Your king is here, in these lands. The Rovers have one King and one alone. Sansla Libor is the King of the Rovers.” Shum said it matter-of-factly with a bow. “Always has been; always will be.”

  “Your king,” Laedorn said, voice hardening, “is wanted for murder, Shum. Over a dozen Elves died by his hands. There’s blood on that winged monster’s claws. You know this. All of the Elves know this.”

  “He’s cursed!” Shum said, slamming his fist on the table.

  All the humans jumped in their seats.

  Shum went on. “He cannot be blamed.”

  Laedorn said, “Curse or no curse, the blood is on his hands, not someone else’s, Rover. We hunt him, yet you protect him.”

  “You don’t seek to cure him,” Shum said. “You seek to destroy him.”

  “He needs to stand trial. He must answer. He must be stopped. He kills, Shum. You’ve seen it. He’ll kill today. Kill tomorrow.” Laedorn tapped his fingers together. “So I presume you want the Occular to cure your King?”

  “You would do the same thing for your king, wouldn’t you?” Shum leaned forward on the table. “Isn’t that what this Occular if for, healing?”

  “Healing the sick. Not murderers!”

  “Alright, everyone,” I cut in. “Let’s back up. About the Occular, Laedorn. We want to help find it. Will you let us do that at least?”

  The Elves went stone cold silent. Expressionless. One and all. They had secrets deeper than the world. They guarded them well.

  All eyes were on Laedorn. Except Brenwar’s. His eyes were closed. Head was back. Snoring softly.

  Laedorn sighed. “Dragon, I need you to come with us. As well as Bayzog and Shum.”

  “Why?”

  “It has been required of me. You see Dragon, as soon as you showed up, we met. Our full council, not just these Elves. Even the King. The decision has been made.”

  “What decision?” I said, easing my way out of my chair.

  “I need you to leave your weapons and come with us,” Laedorn said, “Now.”

  Elven guards sealed the room. Leaf-shaped helmets on their heads. Elven steel on hips and spearheads. There must have been thirty of them.

  Sasha clutched at Bayzog’s arm. “What is going on? Laedorn, is this how you treat your guests?”

  “I’m sorry, Lovely Lady, but you’ll just have to trust me. Dragon, must I ask again?”

  I unhitched Akron, unbuckled Fang, and dropped them on the table. “Lead the way.”

  After all, I still had my claws.

  Not to mention my breath.

  CHAPTER 25

  The Elven guard led us on a casual march through the city. Not a single eye batted. It was as if strangers and armed guards strolled through the city all the time. The three of us were side by side, Bayzog in the middle, the Elven greeters in front and behind us, with Laedorn close by.

  “I wasn’t expecting this,” Laedorn,” I said, not hiding the irritation in my voice. “Didn’t you forget to shackle us?”

  He said nothing.

  We kept going, following a deck roadway that led up and around the trunk of a tree. We came to a tunnel concealed behind the woodland. I’d never heard of an Elven dungeon before, but this had to be one.

  The hair on my neck stood up.

  “Where is this?” I whispered over to Bayzog.

  “I don’t know,” he whispered back.

  We stopped. Dark hoods were placed over our heads.

  I said, “You can’t be serious, Laedorn.”

  He said nothing.

  We were prodded along. Prisoners. Our footsteps silent through every twist and turn.

  I couldn’t keep track of where we were going. I was disoriented. And I had to wonder if it was the structure or the hood.

  It tingled on my head. Muffled sounds. At times it seemed to guide me.

  I lost track of time. Seconds. Minutes. Or hours. But my legs didn’t tire.

  KaRoom!

  It was the first notable sound I heard. A large metal door closing. The stuffiness of an enclosed room. Like a tomb.

  My hood was lifted. Laedorn and many others stood before me.

  “We’re here,” he said.

  “Where?” I said. “Our prison?”

  “Sort of,” he said. “It’s a place more secure that a prison, Dragon. It’s a vault.”

  My eyes adjusted quickly. The room was ornate, metal, completely sealed with one door going in and out. Lit by mystic Lapis Lazuli that hung from chains on the ceiling. Behind Laedorn, the other Elves stood on a dais the color of pearl. The Elven Guard were gone.

  “A vault for what?”

  “Ha! For centuries we’ve been searching. Redeeming ourselves for what we lost. We scoured Nalzambor from one corner to the other. Sailed the waters. Crossed the lava. Tunneled where no Elf had been before.” He smiled at me. “And now we have it.” He stepped aside. The other Elves parted in the middle. “Dragon, behold The Occular of Orray.”

  A cluster of diamonds in the middle were brilliant like stars.
Encased in the purest gold and platinum, the Occular was spectacular.

  Bayzog’s violet eyes were wider than I’d ever seen.

  Shum’s narrow eyes were circles.

  I found myself swallowing a lump in my throat. It was as great a treasure as any in my father’s throne room.

  “How long,” I said, squinting my gold eyes a little, “have you had it?”

  “Not long. Little over a decade,” Laedorn said.

  “Have you used it?” Bayzog asked.

  “Once,” Laedorn replied.

  Bayzog stepped forward, eyes on the pendant.

  “Did it work?”

  “Of course.”

  “And, what did you heal?” Bayzog said. “Or let me guess, you won’t reveal?”

  “You are wise, Bayzog,” Laedorn said, shifting his feet a little, “but it’s not anything you should concern yourselves with. It is Dragon and Sansla Libor that you are concerned with.” He looked at me, my Dragon arms. Waiting. Studying. “Well, Dragon. Is this what you want? Are you ready?”

  All eyes were on me.

  I wasn’t ready. Not at all. If anything, I’d just gotten used to my Dragon arms. My stomach quivered. Knotted a little. What if the Occular did cure me? I looked at my scaly hands and sharp golden-yellow claws. I would miss them. I could do more good with them. Could I do as much good without them?

  “Dragon,” Bayzog said.

  “Huh?” I replied, shaking the fog from my head. “Oh, well, will it heal me, or send me back in time before the trouble started?” I was buying time now. But I had to be smooth. Make certain no one suspected it.

  “The Occular heals, that much is certain. But the other effects of the artifact are unpredictable,” Laedorn said.

  The tightness in my chest began to unravel.

  “Well now, that’s the trick, isn’t it? You can’t really guarantee what will happen, good or bad.” I folded my arms over my chest, held my chin in my hand. “I’ve a great deal of thinking to do. Weighing the consequences of this action.”

  “Dragon!” Bayzog stomped his foot. “This is a great honor and opportunity the Elves are offering you! This is what we came for. We don’t even have to risk our necks. The gift is there. Your only thought should be to take it!”

  I’d never seen Bayzog angry before. There was fury under his creaseless brown skin that was now crinkled. Fists balled at his sides. His human part had come out. If I hadn’t known him better, I’d have supposed he’d strike me.

  “Easy, Bayzog,” I said. “I’m a Dragon. I don’t rush into things.”

  “You rush into everything! That’s what got you here in the first place!” Bayzog said, getting right in my face. “Don’t be a fool, Dragon!”

  My belly caught fire. My eyes narrowed on Bayzog.

  “What did you—”

  “I said what Brenwar would say. What your father would say!”

  “It’s not your decision, Elf.” I poked him in the chest. “It’s mine and mine alone.” I stepped away from Bayzog’s glare. Faced Laedorn. “What about Sansla Libor?”

  “We’ve discussed this already,” Laedorn said, “and we agree to the following.” He faced Shum and looked up into his eyes.

  Shum stood still, hands crossed over his belly.

  Laedorn said to Shum, “Capture Sansla Libor and bring him to us, and we promise we’ll use the Occular on him before he stands trial and judgment is delivered.”

  “How can he stand trial for something he’ll have no recollection of?” Shum said, leaning forward.

  “You don’t know that, Shum,” Laedorn said.

  “And if he’s not healed, how do you try him them?”

  “The same as we try any other murderer and monster in our lands,” Laedorn said. “I’m sorry, Shum, but the Elves won’t budge on this. I won’t either. Justice must be delivered.”

  Shum’s face drew tight. Conflicted. His loyalty to his king was unquestionable. He’d give his life for Sansla Libor.

  I felt for him. I really did. “Shum,” I said, “what would Sansla Libor do if he were in your boots?”

  “Well said, Dragon,” Laedorn said.

  Shum’s steely eyes drifted onto me. There was sadness mixed with determination. “Are you going to help me find him, Dragon?”

  “I give you my pledge.”

  “I too,” Bayzog said.

  Shum extended his crossed arms to Laedorn and stretched out his hands.

  Laedorn took them in his and nodded. “Agreed then.”

  “Now, Dragon,” Laedorn said, “what is your decision? Sometimes opportunity such as this only comes once in a lifetime.

  “Give me a moment,” I said, stepping away. I pinched the bridge of my nose. Rubbed my eyes. Raked my claws through my hair. A hundred thoughts simultaneously raced through my head. I felt the greatest decision in my life pressing upon me. At times like this, I would make a mental list. The good side and the bad side of my consequences.

  “Dragon,” Bayzog said, “the Elves are offering you a gift. Don’t test their patience.”

  “Another moment, please,” I said, spite in my voice. “What seems so easy to you might not be so easy to me. There are consequences to everything. And Laedorn clearly noted there could be side effects. Did your pointed ears not note that? Because I’m pretty sure everyone else heard.”

  I moved farther towards the corner. I thought of Brenwar.

  If he were here, he’d shove the Occular down my throat.

  And what would Brenwar say once I left and told him I received an offer of healing and didn’t take it? I’d never hear the end of it.

  And my father. Should I not do it for him? I could be healed and go back to Dragon Home again. I could clean my slate. Start all over again.

  But I wouldn’t be as powerful.

  I flexed my arms. Felt the tough but pliable scales over layers of hardened muscles. It felt amazing. I snorted a puff of smoke from my nose. I would lose that. The fire in my belly that could melt metal bars. I was twice as powerful now as I’d ever been before.

  It was my choice.

  Mine alone.

  I could save more Dragons with my black scales than without them.

  I turned. Faced them. Shook my head.

  “I’m not doing this.”

  CHAPTER 26

  The Elves in the room had resolve. They weren’t easily rattled or surprised. They weren’t without passion or personality either, but they were quick minded.

  Brows lifted. Mouths sighed. The expressions on their faces were unforgettable.

  Bayzog sat on the dais, holding his head.

  Shum was the only one who didn’t change at all.

  “Are you certain about this?” Laedorn said, frowning.

  It bothered me. Laedorn always featured a pleasant smile. Nothing ever bothered him. Not a hundred charging Orcs. Not a thousand. But this did.

  I stared at the Occular of Orray.

  It was brilliant. Beautiful. Pure as the face of an Elven maiden. It hummed. Twinkled. Stirred the bones under my scales.

  My Dragon heart thumped in my chest. “No,” I said. “I’m not.”

  I stepped onto the dais alongside Bayzog and patted his shoulder.

  His eyes looked up at me. Pleading. Do it, Dragon. Do it.

  I could feel the warmth of the Occular.

  Its glow caressed my scales. Warm. Inviting. A mother. An old friend.

  My eyes began to water. The closer I went, the more my stomach turned. A struggle brewed within me. Pride. Vanity. Arrogance. Power. They clashed with all that was right within me. What was left?

  An image of my father formed in my mind. Patient. Powerful. Kind.

  “Do it,” I said.

  The Elves encircled me. One twitched his slender fingers. The pendant floated from its station and dropped over my neck. Someone was holding my hands. My arms. Others muttered incantations. Soft. Strong. Melodious chanting.

  I closed my eyes. Exhaled. Let go.

  War
mth coated me from head to toe. Every hair tingled on my head. My legs. My arms. My chest. The mystic power soaked in. Washing me from the inside out. I squeezed my eyes shut.

  The light was blinding through my lids.

  I heard voices. Ancient. Wise. In languages no Man had ever heard.

  Cleansing energy raced between my feet and my heart. My heart thundered in my chest. Something deep inside me was being dug out. Strong. Dark. Like a tick made of mithril.

  I started to shake.

  “What’s happening?” Bayzog cried out.

  I slung one Elf from my arm. Then another. I let out an ear splitting roar.

  Zzzzzzt!

  The light of the Occular died. It floated from my neck, back onto the pedestal.

  I fell to my knees. A shaking leaf. A snake’s rattle. My mind a cloud in the air. Time passed. Faces drifted in and out.

  “Dragon, Dragon,” Laedorn said, jostling my shoulder. “Can you hear me?”

  “Huh?” I had a funny taste in my mouth. Unpleasant was more like it. “Yes, yes, Laedorn. I can hear just fine.”

  They were tending the Elves I’d slung into the wall.

  Bayzog stood alongside Shum, staring.

  I stood up, gently pushed Laedorn aside and extended my arms. My black Dragon arms were as beautiful as ever. Claws still as sharp as knives. I felt my face.

  “Anything happen?” I asked.

  Laedorn eyed me from head to toe. “Nothing at all that I can see. It seems either you’re still cursed or you were never cursed at all. I believe it’s the latter, Nath Dragon.”

  I hid my smile. I was elated. But what should I say?

  “I felt something, though. Old wounds being mended.” I feigned a sigh. “I am disappointed. I really thought this would work. Even though―and don’t tell Brenwar this―I was scared at first.” I patted Laedorn on the shoulder. “I don’t think I’m cursed. I think I am the cure. Thank you for trying, Laedorn.”

  With a thoughtful expression on his face, he squeezed my hand that rested on his shoulder.

  “It was our pleasure, Dragon. And I wouldn’t speak of this to the others,” Laedorn said to everyone. “We prefer that the rumors of the Occular of Orray being lost remain so. It is a closely guarded secret. Come, they’ll show you out.”