by Morgan Rice
The only other thing he grabbed was a necklace. As soon as he saw it, he thought of Gwendolyn. It had a rope made of gold and a shining gold heart, laden with diamonds and rubies. He stuffed it deep in his pocket, with his ring, and he vowed to live long enough to give it to her.
The others found priceless treasure, too. O’Connor found a golden bow and a quiver of golden-tipped arrows that he slung over his shoulder, dropping his current one. Reece found a shield made of platinum which shone brighter than the sun, and which he slung over his back. Elden found a new axe, with a leather handle, and a double edge blade made of platinum, so shiny one could see one’s reflection in it. Indra found a gold ring, which she stuffed into her pocket. Only Conven did not partake, marching down the road, looking off into the horizon as if he no longer cared for the world.
Krohn whined, and Thor looked over to see him nudging a piece of jewelry with his nose. Thor knelt down and saw that it was a collar for an animal, perhaps a dog, laden with rubies and sapphires. Krohn whined again, and Thor realized that Krohn wanted to wear it.
Thor lifted it and Krohn lowered his head as if he wanted to wear it. Thor clasped it around his neck, and Krohn leaned over and licked him.
Thor looked down at Krohn and it was shocking to see the shining jewelry standing out amidst his all-white fur. It made Krohn seem more regal, more powerful. It suited him perfectly.
They all continued hiking, higher and higher up the winding mountain trail, the wind getting stronger, the elevation making it harder to breathe. Thor soon found himself wondering if they would ever reach the summit. The mountain peaks seemed to stretch to the end of the world.
“I don’t see any dragons,” O’Connor finally said to Indra.
“Don’t worry,” she answered, “you will soon enough.”
There came a low, distant rumble, like a growling noise, and the ground shook beneath their feet. They all stopped and listened. Thor recognized the sound at once from his time at The Hundred. The roar of a dragon.
It made it all real, and Thor swallowed hard, realizing how crazy this quest was.
They continued marching, and just as Thor was beginning to feel he could not march one step further, his legs shaking, they finally reached the summit of the highest peak. They all stood there, gasping, and looked out at the vista. The sight of it took their breath away.
Spread out below them was a vast valley with volcanoes everywhere. The lava spewed forth, filling the air with sparkling red, casting off heat so strong that it warmed the freezing cold day even from here. Rivers of lava flowed everywhere, and the land and sky were black with soot and ashes.
In the farthest distance, on the horizon, were roaring flames and smoke. There came a great rumble, somewhere out of sight.
The lair of the dragons. Thor could sense its power from here.
The view before them felt like one of the great wonders of the world. He had the same feeling he’d had when he saw the Canyon for the first time. Magical, mysterious, alluring—and dangerous.
Another gust of wind came, this one strong enough to knock them off balance, and Thor and the others looked at each other. They also stood rooted in place, hesitant to take the next step.
Finally, Conven stepped forward, descending down the trail, which sloped its way gently through the vast landscape, meandering around fields of lava, towards the ever distant lair of dragons.
Thor and the others followed, and as they marched and marched, Thor felt an increasing sense of ominousness, as if they were all being watched.
***There came a sudden noise, a great flapping of wings, and Thor looked up and saw high up a huge dragon, soaring, circling. Luckily, it did not seem to spot them, but the flapping of the wings was so loud, Thor could hear it even from here. The wings were so wide they blotted out the sky, and from here the immense, primordial beast looked magical. Invincible.
Thor could not believe how close they were, after all this time, to finally nearing the Dragon’s lair, the final resting place of the Sword. Thor could feel the Sword’s energy even from here. He was excited to feel it was definitely here, within reach. His heart quickened.
Thor also felt a tremendous energy vibrating within, and he knew he was in a very powerful place, both physically and spiritually. He had never experienced anything like this before, and he felt overwhelmed by the sensation. He knew there would lie a tremendous battle up ahead for them. And he knew that the battle would be more spiritual than physical.
All of the boys looked up in wonder as the dragon flew by.
“And how are we supposed to fight that?” O’Connor asked. “Do you think our weapons would do any good?”
“Not to mention its flames,” Indra said. “They will eviscerate you within moments.”
“We must have faith,” Thor said. “We are on a quest bigger than ourselves.”
They continued marching and as they did, suddenly, a small volcano beside them burst, shooting up lava into the air. Sparks and a stream of lava poured down all around them, barely missing them, as they ran out of the way.
The deeper they went, the more of these small volcanoes burst, and the lava became more intense, their having to dodge it every few feet. It was like running through a minefield, and they still had quite a good distance to go until they reached the end of the fields.
As they went, all of them increasingly on edge, suddenly they all stopped as they heard an awful snarling noise behind them. The noise sounded like a tiger’s growl, yet with fire in its throat. It sent the hairs on Thor’s back on edge.
Thor turned slowly, as did the others, and was horrified at the sight: a small volcano exploded, the lava shooting up into the air, and as the lava fell towards the ground, it took the form of a large creature, twice the size of a guerrilla, made entirely of molten fire. As the creature leaned back its head and roared, it swung its arms and sent flame and lava flying everywhere. A small clump seared Thor’s arm as it shot past him, making him scream out in pain.
They all hit the ground as flames and small bits and pieces of lava went flying everywhere.
“My shield!” Reece yelled.
Reece ran forward before the others with his new platinum shield, and as he held it out in front of them, they all took cover behind it; the shield magically expanded, becoming large enough to cover all of them.
Chunks of lava bounced off it, sounding like hail, hissing, denting the shield, sending up the acrid smell of sulfur and smoke
The monster, enraged, roared again, and the ground hissed as it charged right for them.
Conven jumped out from behind the safety of the shield, raised a sword high, and charged the beast; as he approached recklessly, he slashed the sword right through the monster’s midsection. But the monster stood there, unphased, and Conven looked down, horrified to watch the sword melt in his hands, bending and falling limp to the ground.
O’Connor stood and shot golden arrows at it with his new bow; but the arrows, as they neared the beast, melted, too, all falling as flame to the earth.
Elden jumped up and threw his axe, which went end over end, right through the creature, searing, turning black, and landing out on the other side, melted.
Thor placed a golden ball in his sling, reached back and hurled it—but the creature merely raised a palm and caught the golden ball in mid-air, and the gold melted into a puddle at its feet.
The beast pulled back its hand, and smashed Conven across the face. Conven stumbled and fell to the ground, screaming, clutching his face as the blow left a burn mark along the side of his jaw. The beast then raised a fist to bring it down on Conven’s exposed neck, and Thor knew the beast would burn him alive.
Thor stepped forward, held out his palm and closed his eyes. He felt the burning nature of this beast. Instead of fighting it, he tried to become one with it. And then, he willed his hand to send forth ice.
Thor opened his eyes to see a stream of ice fly out, radiating, covering the beast right before it could strike Conven.
The beast shrieked as, bit by bit, the ice spread over him, and froze him in place.
Then, finally, the beast shattered, and melted into a puddle of water at their feet.
The others turned to Thor with a look of gratitude and relief, and Thor, spent, collapsed to his knees, his arm burning from the pain of being burnt, and drained from his use of magic. He was slowly becoming more able to control it, he noticed. But he felt it was also taking a heavier toll on him. He was not yet able to control his stamina, and he felt as if it had all been taken from him.
Reece and O’Connor came over and picked him up, helping to carry him as they all continued on their trek.
They continued, hurrying through the meandering lava fields, following the road of bones, trying to stay as far from the lava streams as possible. The smell of sulfur grew stronger in the air, as did the dark clouds of ash, the perpetual thunder, the explosions of fire. At some point, Thor knew, those sounds were no longer just the volcanoes: now, as they neared, they were also the sound of the dragons’ breath.
As the trail dipped up and down, weaved in and out of lava fields, finally, it took them to a ridge, to a place where the land fell off before them and Thor saw something that would stay with him for the rest of his days.
Before them stood a great sea of fire and lava, sparking, bubbling, impossible to cross. Beyond that, there sat a land of black sand and sulfur, a huge cave dug into an ancient cliff. And filling the sky, flapping their wings, screaming, roaring, were hundreds of dragons, turning the sky black. They all shot flames from their mouths, all filled with fury, with bloodlust. Dozens more were nestled within the cave, guarding its entrance.
“The Dragon’s Lair,” Indra said.
They had found it. And somewhere, inside that cave, lay the Sword of Destiny.
CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR
Godfrey marched quickly through the night, traversing the back streets of Silesia, Akorth and Fulton beside him. As he looked over at his compatriots, he had to do a double-take to realize that they were his friends: the Empire uniforms they wore were so convincing, especially with the face plates down, that they fooled even he, their life-long friend.
As they marched into the unknown, Godfrey was proud of himself, and also a bit shocked: he’d had no idea that his plan, which was improvising and evolving as it went along, would get half as far as it did. He and Akorth and Fulton, he thought, made the most unlikely of heroes, the only members of the Silesian army still standing, slipping through the night, just the three of them, dressed in these ridiculous uniforms, left to oppose Andronicus’ million-man army. It was so absurd that if Godfrey were watching it from a distance, he would laugh.
But this was real, and he was in it, and life and death were at stake—and Godfrey was not laughing. Nor were his friends. They all marched stiffly, terrified as they passed through camps of Empire soldiers patrolling everywhere, huddled around bonfires, their backs against the wind, trying to get warm. The three of them walked with their chests out, trying to strut with purpose, trying to act as if they belonged and were on a mission of great import.
With each new step Godfrey’s heart pounded for fear of being discovered. He was terrified that someone would notice the mismatched size of his uniform or his crooked stripes or the direction they were marching, or stop to wonder where the three of them might be going this time of night. He increased his pace, as did his friends, and he could sense that they were as nervous as he.
Akorth and Fulton also reeked of ale, and it made him nervous; he wondered if a typical Empire soldier would drink as much as these two, and if it might give them away. He was sure that the ale they’d drank was helping to calm their nerves, but Godfrey didn’t have any ale inside him himself, and it made him jealous. Still, he was happy to have the company, and he knew he would need them if he had any chance of pulling off what he was about to attempt.
Godfrey weaved in and out of the streets, determined to save his brother Kendrick. He had spotted him and the others on the crosses earlier in the day, and it had broke his heart. Godfrey had always had a soft spot for Kendrick, one of the only knights who had not been condescending to him, who had not made him feel like he was less than them. After spotting him, Godfrey had formulated a plan, and had bided his time, waiting with Akorth and Fulton until night fell, until they could make their move. Finally, the time had come.
“This will never work, you know that?” Akorth said, burping up ale beside him, stumbling, a bit off balance.
“It is probably the dumbest thing I’ve ever done,” Fulton said. “Although I do admit I feel almost like a hero. It feels pretty good, I have to say,” he said, smiling, revealing missing teeth.
“Almost is the key word,” said Akorth. “You’re just a bumbling drunk idiot in an enemy uniform, just like me. That doesn’t make you a hero. It just makes you brave. Which also means stupid. We should all be back in the tavern, huddled up to a fire and some warm ale. Instead, here we are here, freezing our arses off for nothing.”
“Shut up, both you!” Godfrey hissed.
They slowed to a walk, as a group of Empire soldiers passed them. The soldiers looked them up and down warily, and Godfrey prayed that they didn’t notice anything out of order—or see him trembling.
They rounded a corner, and before they did, Godfrey saw the soldiers turn back and look over their shoulders, hesitating. But then, finally they kept walking. Godfrey breathed a sigh of relief. It was a close call. Perhaps they had bigger fish to fry; perhaps they were unsure; or perhaps they were just too damn cold.
“Listen you two,” Godfrey whispered harshly. “Stop your bickering. You’re right: it’s reckless. And I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. But I know how to survive. And so do you. So stop talking and follow me and do as I tell you. If not, then turn back and go home now. You might live today. But do you really think you’ll make it here a month?”
The two of them looked at each other, then fell silent and continued to walk by Godfrey’s side.
They crossed through a square of rubble and it tore Godfrey up to see the destruction all around him, to see all of his people bound together, enslaved, to see all the corpses. He realized how lucky he was that he wasn’t lying there with the others.
They entered the courtyard and Godfrey’s anxiety increased. There were more soldiers here, spread out in small groups, huddle around fires. But there, at the far end, in the shadows, he spotted what he had come for: a row of crosses, on which were bound the most important soldiers—including Godfrey.
“Keep your heads low as we march, but not too low,” Godfrey whispered to the others as they marched across the courtyard, past rows of soldiers. “Act natural, like you belong here. Follow my lead.”
They nodded back nervously.
Godfrey doubled his pace, trying to keep himself not from marching too quickly, too conspicuously, as they headed right up to the row of crosses and to Kendrick.
Kendrick hung there, hunched over on his cross, moaning, eyes closed. He appeared more dead than alive.
Godfrey hissed at him.
“Kendrick!”
Godfrey hissed several times, wondering if he was dead, when finally, Kendrick lifted his chin and opened his eyes slightly. His eyes fluttered several times.
Kendrick stared back at him in confusion, and then Godfrey realized: given his uniform, Kendrick thought he was an Empire soldier.
Godfrey lifted his face plate, revealing himself.
Kendrick’s eyes opened wide in surprise.
“We’ve come to cut you down,” Godfrey said. “Do you understand?”
Kendrick nodded quickly, and Godfrey climbed the cross, pulled his dagger out, reached behind him and cut the ropes binding his ankles, then his wrists.
“Set to work on the others!” Godfrey called out to Akorth and Fulton, and they broke into action, following his lead and cutting down the other soldiers.
As Godfrey cut the final rope, Kendrick suddenly collapsed off the cross, landing
on Godfrey, knocking him down with him. Brom, Srog and Atme collapsed onto Akorth and Fulton, all of them stumbling down to the ground.
Godfrey had not anticipated that, nor had he anticipated Kendrick to be so heavy. Kendrick lay on top of him, moaning, like a ragdoll, and Godfrey got up, dragged him to his feet, and draped an arm over his shoulder, his heart pounding with excitement and fear that they escape before they were all discovered.
“Are you okay?” Godfrey asked.
Kendrick nodded.
“Don’t worry about me,” Kendrick said. “Save the others.”
Akorth and Fulton dragged up Brom, Srog and Atme, and as Godfrey prepared to cut down more men, suddenly, a voice rang out.
“Hey, you there!”
Godfrey turned and his heart dropped to see a group of Empire soldiers, on the far side of the courtyard, running for them.
“What is the meaning of this? Who ordered you to cut these prisoners down?” they called out.
“RUN!” Godfrey yelled.
Godfrey, Akorth and Fulton began running, dragging Kendrick, Brom, Srog and Atme.
“This way!” came a voice.
As Godfrey ran, he looked over and saw, kneeling beside the stone wall, a beautiful women with brown skin, of the Empire race. She gestured frantically for him to follow and to enter into a small secret passageway hidden in the stone. Godfrey hesitated, wondering if he should trust her—but then he heard the shouts of the soldiers behind him, and knew he had no choice.
Godfrey led the others towards the woman, all of them ducking into the secret passageway in the dark shadows of the stone wall. As they all darted inside, she quickly slammed the metal grate behind them.
They found themselves inside a small, dark room, hidden behind the wall, and Godfrey kneeled beside the woman and looked out and watched with bated breath as the group of soldiers ran past, charging across the courtyard, looking for them. They had not seen where they’d went. It had worked.