by Delmire Hart
“How good of you to finally show up,” Kenworth sneered from the other side of the table. Barkley’s eye twitched in irritation.
“Yes, well. I do believe we’ve had the discussion about the limitations of magical power,” he snapped back, doing a passable impression of Frederick if Barkley said so himself. The stiff, intense, and intelligent way the old mage spoke was the perfect way to deal with this prick.
Kenworth didn’t seem to like his tone by the way he narrowed his eyes at him, but he didn’t respond; instead, he turned his focus back to the table in front of him. Multiple pieces of parchment lay across the table, pieced together to depict a huge map of Rilia and the surrounding empires. Small wooden figurines sat positioned at different strategic points across the map, though they did little to help Barkley understand what he was seeing.
“This is the main force of the Quathian army,” Kenworth said to the group at large as he pointed to a row of six wooden soldiers lined up on his side of the table. “The numbers show us that so far all we have encountered is their front fighters, no doubt a harrying force sent to raid our villages and prepare for the main attack come summer. That it’s taken two years for them to set up for this shows how little they think of our army. It’s clear they plan to take all of Rilia within a year.”
Silence greeted his words, the grim faces of the surrounding soldiers unsurprised. While Kenworth was addressing the room at large, it was clear that this was for Barkley’s benefit. Barkley struggled to keep the shock from his face. Everything so far, all the violence, all the pain and suffering, wasn’t even their real push into Rilia? All the death and destruction wrought by mere raiders and what Rilia called a war, Quathia called the preparation for conquest.
Barkley’s goal was obvious; he needed to end this so-called war before it truly began.
“Losing the three forward bases was a blow to our enemy, but one they can afford. If we want to hurt them, to really pay those sons of bitches back for daring to take what is ours, we need to strike where they least expect it.” Kenworth paused as he reached out to run a finger along a section of the map devoid of any figurines. “We don’t have the number the Quathian bastards have, but a smaller force is easier to move. The scouting showed this area unprotected, most likely due to them thinking us incapacitated by the winter and their raiders. If we move fast and split our forces, with the help our demon, we could burn our way through their unprotected villages all the way to the capital.”
Beside Barkley, Zaxor bristled in indignation, but Barkley was barely paying attention. Instead, all of his focus was on the map, trying to understand where everything lay. He wasn’t sure, but from what Kenworth was suggesting…
“That would leave our borders unprotected,” Jerry argued in the tone of someone repeating themselves yet again. “We don’t have the forces to leave behind any substantial defence, and the heavy snows would slow us as much as it slows the Quathians. As much as I want to see them hurt, there’s no possible way to get there and back before their main force arrives in summer. They could reach Loria before we even make it back into our territory if they moved as soon as the thaws started.”
“What’s a few more fires in already destroyed villages?” Kenworth interjected dismissively. “Nothing stands along our border now, and anyone who didn’t move inland is a fool. With the power we now have, we could halt them in their tracks anytime we choose. A few extra burnt buildings is a small price to pay for the chance to make them bleed in return.”
The rest of his words were drowned out by a strange buzzing in Barkley’s ears as his world narrowed down to nothing but the maps in front of them. He was beyond shocked, shaken by the officer’s words to his very core. His family, and many others, had nothing left but the land they grew up on and would never leave, even if it killed them. Kenworth might think them fools, but farming was their lives, all they had ever known, and they were nothing if not stubborn people.
Barkley’s village was so small it didn’t even have an official name granted by the crown, although locals referred to it by Appleoak on account of the hardy apple trees one of his neighbours grew. What meagre life they had eked out in peace and happiness with pure hard work was already in shambles, yet Kenworth stood there flippantly calling them all fools for trying to continue on.
After Max and Zaxor’s warnings, Barkley had expected something of the sort. Some bold, greedy move to take what was not previously an option. But to leave their entire border open to an attack purely so they could hurt Quathia a little in return? That was more than mere greed. This, this Barkley didn’t even have a name for.
“No,” Barkley whispered, unheard above the renewed argument between Jerry and Kenworth. “No,” he repeated, louder. “No!”
“What do you mean, no?” Kenworth sneered, and Barkley whipped his head up to meet his vicious stare. “You don’t have a choice; I have the final say here. It’s not like we need you anyway, just your pet here.”
Barkley curled his hands into fists to stop their shaking as he took a deep breath. He could not do this, he would not.
“Oh?” Zaxor drawled, tone amused. “How quaint, the human thinks he can command me.” The demon spread his arms wide in the same grand gesture Barkley had first seen when he forged his contract with Zaxor. “Do you wish to form a contract? Though I doubt you have anything of value to offer; not even your soul would interest me.”
Stunned silence met his words, eyes flickering across to Barkley in wonder. No doubt many making the connection about just what Barkley had sold for access to Zaxor’s power. Firming his jaw and setting his shoulders, Barkley straightened his posture. No, he would not follow Kenworth’s greedy ambitions; instead, he was going to find a way to end this on his own.
“I will not lose any more of my family to this war,” Barkley said quietly, his words carrying through the silence. “Especially not because some greedy fool could not see past his own need for vengeance.”
With that said, Barkley turned to stride towards the door. He only made it a few paces before a lurching sensation told him that Zaxor had just teleported them to another place within the human plane. Looking around, he recognised the area as being on the edge of camp, although further into the trees than before. Zaxor beckoned him to follow as he moved through the sparse forest, away from the forward base.
“I suspected this might happen and organised a back-up plan with Temress. Although, I expect a great deal of attention in return for owing a dragon a favour this great.”
“Temress?” Barkley questioned, startled.
“No matter what path you chose today, I assumed you’d want to end this as quickly as possible. It would take weeks to travel that deep into Quathian territory, not counting the snow, the need to rest, and lack of provisions. We can get there in a matter of hours by air.”
That was a fair assumption, Barkley supposed. He wasn’t exactly quiet about how the waiting had grated on him before, and the sooner this was all done, the sooner his family would be safe. Still, it would have been nice if Zaxor had explained his plans before now, not that he’d ever bothered to do so before.
“But what does Temress have to do with this?”
“Dragons,” Zaxor drawled, glancing back at Barkley with a smirk, “can fly.”
Barkley huffed, annoyed. “Yes, I know that. But why are you getting her to help if it will cost you? Couldn’t you just fly us there, drop an anchor, go recover your magic, and then teleport us back a few days later?”
“Technically, yes,” Zaxor allowed. The demon slowed, then changed direction, heading towards a small clearing. He seemed to be looking for something, not that he’d bother to enlighten Barkley, of course. “However, things are rarely so simple. When we flew over the enemy base, I noticed two things that were not visible to the naked eye. First; there is a large magic dampening barrier surrounding the entire base. That kind of barrier is multipurpose. Magic cannot pass through the field, and any magical creature that passes through will raise
an alarm. Once inside, the barrier also makes it difficult to use magic, magnifying the cost to the caster tenfold. Second; any magic user can detect the presence of other magic. We know the Quathian army has mages, and it is likely they would detect the anchor I placed and either destroy it or set up a trap for when we return.”
The trees around them thinned out to leave a space open to the sky. A snap of Zaxor’s fingers caused all the plant life spread out before them to uproot and pile up in a heap at the other end of the clearing. Blades of grass, flowers, bushes, and all the accompanying bugs spilled around the trees. All that was left in its place was the loamy dirt that was quickly magically smoothed out.
“The plan is simple; I summon Temress here in her dragon form. She takes you to the enemy base while I return to the demon plane to regenerate my magic. She will destroy the barrier surrounding the camp, then I’ll return to take care of the rest.”
Zaxor stepped up to the middle of the clearing, his feet hovering bare inches above the ground to leave the dirt unmarred. Much like he had done the day he flew, Zaxor began to draw out the runes in the soft dirt. The only difference was the runes were drawn far smaller in an intricate, interlocking pattern.
“That leaves me with so many questions.” Barkley sighed as he sat down under a decent-looking tree. The whirlwind of emotions from trepidation to shock to a sick kind of anger had left Barkley feeling drained and cranky. Zaxor, being his usual flippant self, was not helping his mood any.
“You have plenty of time to ask,” Zaxor shot back. “This will take me some hours to prepare then cast. Ritual summoning spells are rather unnecessarily complicated.”
Barkley shifted in place, trying to get comfortable between the tree roots so he could lean back against the large tree truck. “Couldn’t you bring one of her anchors through so she could teleport here instead?”
“Everything magical, even anchors, has limitations.” Zaxor’s tail swished around before it drew an additional line of runes in the dirt. It was an impressive feat of multitasking that Barkley strongly suspected was magically aided. “Dragons can use anchors in their human forms, but their dragon forms are too large to use such methods of teleportation. If Temress came here in her human form, she would use up nearly all of her magic transforming back into her natural dragon form. Magic she needs to fly and remove the barrier.”
This was making his head hurt. Why were there so many rules? And how the hell did Zaxor remember them all? The more he learned about magic, the less ‘magical’ everything seemed. Barkley wondered if he’d ever be able to read his favourite fanciful novels again without being painfully aware of how the magic worked. He’d already had The Adventures of Belvadair the Brave ruined for him; he might just weep if any of the others he loved became unreadable.
“Right. So, instead, you have to use your magic to bring her here.” Barkley rubbed a hand across his forehead as he sorted out his thoughts. “But there’s no way you can regenerate all that magic back in just a few hours.”
“Not passively, no. But I have several vessels that contain magical energy I stored away when I had little need of the excess. It always pays to plan ahead.”
“Right.” Barkley sighed again as he tilted his head back to rest against the tree, looking up through its leaves to the grey sky above. The bleak appearance mirrored his mood. With no further questions weighing on him, Barkley settled in to wait. If he was lucky, he might even sneak in a nap so the time would pass by faster.
Chapter Thirty-One
Zaxor hadn’t been exaggerating the length of time it took to summon Temress. It took at least an hour for him to draw the huge circle of runes needed for the ritual, and even longer to cast the magic. The steady intonation of Zaxor’s deep voice nearly lulled Barkley to sleep until the wind whipping around the demon kicked up. The physical reaction to the magic Zaxor was casting nearly took Barkley off his feet and created a whirlwind of dust and plant debris.
An image flickered briefly, showing a towering beast of red scales with black accents, too long fangs and vicious talons, then there she was, Temress in the flesh. Her dragon form towered above them, her head reaching into the sky. Her sheer bulk would rival any noble’s sweeping mansion. Her colouring reminded Barkley of the dragon he’d viewed when he first entered the demon realm, and he wondered if it had been Temress that he’d seen.
She snorted, the great huff of air rustling the tree leaves, as she shifted on the spot. The cracking sound of felled trees was alarming, not the least because it showed how massive she was. Temress could not fit in the clearing and was knocking over trees just to put her back feet down.
‘Could you not have found a better place to summon me?’
The words echoed strangely in his head as she spoke directly into his thoughts, though that was clearly not intended for Barkley. Zaxor merely shrugged before turning to stride towards Barkley, his form stretching as he shifted forms. A large hand scooped the young man up with effortless ease, then they were flying up to stand between Temress’s wings, her size only more impressive from high.
Barkley sat as instructed, Zaxor drawing purple runes around his legs and waist before flying back to hover before the dragon’s snout. He gave it a condescending pat, zipping backwards out of the way with a grin as she snapped at him.
“North as the crow flies, you can’t miss it. I’ll return once the barrier has been removed.”
Temress snorted again as she shook out her wings, flapping once, twice, experimentally.
‘Let’s hope your directions are better than your choice of summoning location, demon.’
With that, Zaxor left, blinking out of existence. Temress crouched, wings priming, before launching into the sky. It quickly became obvious that the runes Zaxor had cast were to keep Barkley in place, because the speed they were hurtling through the air at would have sent him tumbling to the ground otherwise. The cold wind whipping at his hair and clothes stole his breath from his lungs, rendering a yell of fright soundless. Temress roared as she evened out, the sound primal, terrifying, yet awe-inspiring.
This was the true form of the dark-skinned woman that had possessively draped herself over Max? This, this was a dragon. A real dragon, like those from the ancient legends.
The red scales under his body were warm to the touch and smooth, almost like metal. Her long, graceful neck glinted faintly in the sunlight, and all he could see of her head were massive horns sweeping back from her face to point towards the sky. The giant wings beat the air, runes shimmering across the top of each wing. It looked like even Temress couldn’t fly here unaided.
The sheer difference in size meant that Barkley couldn’t see the passage of the earth rolling beneath them, only the red and black of Temress and the clouds passing by almost close enough to touch.
‘Are you ready to see your enemies defeated, little human?’
The words echoed in his head, and this time he could feel her presence there, a small brush of another existence at the back of his mind. This must be how she could communicate telepathically and receive the response the same way.
A bone deep tiredness born from stress, and disappointment, and general world weariness had settled over him while he waited for Zaxor to summon Temress. The feeling washed away everything but for exhaustion, and Barkley found that even ending the war could not elicit more feeling from him.
‘Honestly,’ Barkley thought at her, hoping it would reach the dragon. ‘I just want this to be over. I’m tired.’
While Temress didn’t reply verbally, he felt her flash of understanding before she withdrew from his mind to leave him alone with his thoughts.
Barkley had no way to judge the passage of time except for the rhythmic beating of Temress’s wings, and he was only alerted to their location when the dragon slowed. She banked to the side to circle the huge encampment, giving Barkley a view of sprawling tents below. Little ant-sized people frantically dashed around or stopped to stare up at the huge dragon flying overhead. Distantly, he
wondered what it would feel like to be on the ground looking up, knowing this could be his last few moments.
A roar tore through the air again, this one sounding much more like a war cry than the previous. With her challenge issued, Temress pulled up to a stop over the middle of the camp, took a deep breath, then roared out a massive pillar of flame. The red-hot flames spread over an invisible dome-like shape, the tendrils of heat whipping about as they tried to force their way through. Temress’s breath seemed to go on and on, the layer of flames stretching almost to the ground.
Suddenly, a ripple of blue light interspersed the flames, and all at once the barrier gave way. Screams met Barkley’s ears as the fire shot down to take root in the canvas tents and wooden structures. Temress’s flames ran out and she took another deep breath only to let loose a loud roar of triumph into the air.
Arms wrapped around his waist, startling Barkley, and he craned his head around to see the familiar form of Zaxor releasing him from his magical harness. Once Barkley was free, the demon’s shape began to shift and grow, once again taking on the swirling shadow form. Barkley was pressed into Zaxor’s chest, magical bindings curling around him to hold him in place.
Blackness overtook his vision just as the distant screams were abruptly silenced, leaving him suspended in a quiet world with nothing but his thoughts and the vague feeling of movement. It was tempting, oh-so-tempting, to just leave it and let Zaxor see out his contract. But if this was the end, Barkley knew he needed to see what his choices had wrought. He owed strangers nothing, least of all enemy soldiers, but he felt like he should at least witness their passing. His choices were his responsibility, he couldn’t sit here blind.
“Zaxor,” he called, disturbed how the spell to deafen him included hearing the echo of his own voice as he spoke. “I need to see. I need to see this through to the end.”
After a moment, the blackness over his eyes lifted and Barkley could see that they were slowly descending to the earth. The deafening effect stayed in place, making the scene before him play out in eerie silence, but Barkley couldn’t bring himself to demand that to be removed as well. It was enough to see, surely.