by James Somers
“You act like I’ve killed your love,” she said.
I strained only a moment longer before deflating completely. My further hesitation led her into a wild fit of laughter at my expense. “You do love him!” she exclaimed. “How perfectly delicious. Who is the traitor now?”
“Coward!” I managed in my rage. “Release me!”
She stepped closer to me, so that her breath fell on my face. “Would you like to know the pain I made him endure as he begged me for his life?”
I tried to spit in her face, but she was too fast. She slapped me away. My cheek burned over my aching jaw.
“So vicious!” she said, mocking me.
Behind her, a man entered the room. He remained in the shadows, making a positive identification difficult at best. His voice was deep and smooth, almost sensual, and the woman reacted immediately with obedience. “Jillian, leave her alone,” he said. “Ezekiah will be here soon, and I need you up here.”
I responded instantly. “He lives?”
The woman turned back to me, grinning. “Does that make you happy?” she whispered into my left ear. “Do you yearn for him?”
“Jillian, let’s go,” the man insisted.
She turned and walked away, following him out of the dilapidated room, leaving me alone. I let out a heavy sigh. Tears rolled down my cheeks, and, for a moment, I wondered why. I was not afraid of the woman. I was not afraid of dying. Courage had been trained into me for years.
Ezekiah was alive. She had been lying. I realized my tears were tears of relief.
It took nearly an hour for the mysterious man and the woman named Jillian to return. She quickly took up a position next to me with her dagger in her hand. The man stepped aside, allowing three people to come in before him. Ezekiah stepped into the room followed by Tobias and Donavan, the preacher I had met at Thorn Mountain.
As soon as I saw Ezekiah and Tobias I found myself smiling. The man had indicated that they were alive, but seeing them took my relief to a higher level. Tobias immediately crossed the room, coming toward me, but Jillian warned him away. Her dagger flew to my throat.
“Don’t come too close,” the man warned.
“Varen, is this foolishness really necessary?” Ezekiah asked.
“So, you are Varen?” I asked.
Jillian pressed the dagger against my flesh. “You are not permitted to speak,” she whispered in my ear.
Ezekiah raised a hand, hoping to quell me. I remained silent but hopeful. I wasn’t sure why Varen would be meeting with Ezekiah, after trying to kill him in the Urtah Mountains, but I knew it couldn’t be anything good. Tobias returned to Ezekiah’s side, but he continued to watch Jillian’s blade against my flesh.
“All right, Varen, we’ve come to your little meeting,” Ezekiah said impatiently. “You’re holding Gwen because you obviously want something from me. What is it?”
Varen smiled. “Good old Ezekiah, always quick to the point of the matter. I want your help against the dragons.”
Ezekiah scoffed. “Why would you need my help? You already have the weapons my father stored in the tunnel, and you’ve seized our locomotive. What help could we possibly offer now?”
“I want you to lead a team of my soldiers into Mount Doom, Ezekiah,” Varen said. “Belial and the others have retreated within their caverns after our display of firepower. I want you to plant explosives within the mountain so that we can bring it down upon them. They will be killed, or at least buried alive. We’ll finally be rid of them. The explosives were brought from the cache your father left, of course. They appear to work by remote using some of the electricity energy you recreated for your printing press. Even after all of this time, the charges still work nicely.”
Ezekiah considered a moment before responding. “I shouldn’t bother to remind you that the prophecies clearly proclaim that Elithias must destroy the dragons.”
“I don’t believe the prophecies, Ezekiah.”
“Clearly,” Ezekiah said. “However, this team would be killed before they could complete their task. The dragons aren’t going to just let you bring Mount Doom down around them without retaliation.”
“That matters very little,” Varen said. “If the dragons come out of the mountain, then we will be waiting for them. We’ll kill them, or drive them away like we did Moloch and Belial already.”
“And this demolition team you’re sending in?” Ezekiah asked.
Varen grinned. “I guess you had better hope your God, Elithias, is able to keep you alive. Otherwise, the girl will die.”
Jillian emphasized Varen’s point, drawing a trace line of blood from my throat as her blade brushed across my skin ever-so-lightly.
Ezekiah looked from my throat to my eyes, seeming as though he would have thrashed both Varen and his woman if he could have. “That’s not necessary,” Ezekiah said.
“Oh, but it is,” Varen said. “I’m not going to bargain with you, Ezekiah. The explosive charges are already waiting above with my men who will accompany you into the mountain. I’ll give you three days to complete the task. At that time I will blow the charges from here. If you fail, the girl dies by Jillian’s hand. And don’t suppose that it will be a quick death.”
Ezekiah nodded grimly then turned to head for the surface. Tobias grabbed him by the arm. “I want to stay with Gwen,” he said.
Ezekiah started to protest then turned to Varen. “Is there any reason why the boy couldn’t remain with Gwen to keep her company?”
Varen smiled. “As you wish, Ezekiah. Jillian, tie the boy up. We wouldn’t want him helping the girl escape. But if you don’t return, Ezekiah, they both die.”
Ezekiah gripped Tobias’ shoulder, smiling at him. “Take good care of her.” Then he turned and strode from the room toward the surface.
Varen left Tobias in Jillian’s care and followed after. She looked annoyed with the boy, but grabbed a wooden chair lying on its side in a corner and set it down a few feet away from me. “Sit,” she commanded.
Tobias obeyed, keeping his eyes on me. Jillian produced a piece of hemp rope from a pile of odds and ends in one corner. She tied him up efficiently. He wouldn’t escape from it without some sort of assistance.
When she had finished with Tobias, she turned to me. “It’s a pity I don’t have the time to test your skill, young one,” she said. “I have heard that you are the wraith dancer who killed Peka and his men when they infiltrated Belial’s temple. I would have liked to see you in action.”
“Remove these shackles and I’ll give you a demonstration,” I said.
She stifled a laugh. “As amusing as that would be, I don’t have the time.”
“Don’t you mean your keeper won’t let you?” I asked. “I don’t see why you allow a weaker warrior to control you.” I hoped to insult her pride, but she was smarter than that.
“You’re one to talk,” she said. “Besides, men still have their uses, even for a wraith dancer.” She laughed. “But I guess you wouldn’t know anything about that, virgin daughter of Belial, now would you?”
I wanted to speak, but there was nothing to say. She had wounded me with my own chastity and the affection I could barely acknowledge for Ezekiah. Jillian turned away, taking her small victory with her.
Tobias did not ask me what she was talking about. I was glad for that. I wasn’t sure I could have explained my feelings. I wasn’t even sure what my feelings were. I found that I did care what happened to Ezekiah. But I wasn’t sure if that was somehow different than caring for Tobias and his safety. She had been right about one thing. I did not know what she clearly knew of men.
MOUNT DOOM
Donavan finally caught up with Ezekiah as they reached the surface, coming out of the basement of a house Varen and his men had commandeered from some poor family. They had known of the underground passages running beneath the city and were making use of them in order to infiltrate Babale without the dragons’ knowledge. True to Varen’s word, a group of his soldiers were waiting w
ith horses and pack-mules. Satchels bulging with Varen’s explosives were strapped to the beasts of burden.
Ezekiah stopped, examining the men he was meant to lead into Mount Doom, the home of the dragons. Donavan stood next to him. “How could you allow the boy to remain down there with her?” he hissed. “He’ll be killed.”
Ezekiah looked at him curiously. “Don’t be afraid, Donavan,” he said. “This is Elithias’ will.”
Donavan was taken aback. He looked at Mount Doom in the distance. “Are we going to come back from this?” he asked, suddenly stoic.
Ezekiah did not smile. “I don’t know if we will survive, or Gwen, or Tobias,” he admitted. “But I know whom I’ve trusted. However I leave this life, I know that I will go to be with him.”
Donavan sighed and then smiled, nodding in agreement.
Varen interrupted them. “Men, your horses and the dragons are waiting.”
Ezekiah and Donavan glanced at one another then mounted the animals that had been brought for them. The team of nearly a dozen men rode toward the volcanic mountain in the distance. Mount Doom towered over the valley, waiting.
Beginning several hours after sunrise, the journey through the valley up to the base of Mount Doom had taken the entire day. “We’ll camp here for the night before taking the passage into the mountain,” Ezekiah said.
The passage was well known, having been used for hundreds of years by the priests of Belial. Legends told of a vast sanctuary within that kept many secrets and allowed the priests to consort with their masters. Ezekiah had never been inside, but most people knew the way.
Gwen awoke to find one of the soldiers Jillian had left guarding them hours ago holding her head up by her hair. “Wake up, sleepy-head,” he said, grinning.
She might have spit in his face, but she didn’t want to waste what precious water she had left. It had been hours since they had given her or Tobias anything to drink. “Do you need to do your business yet?” he asked. “The boy has already gone. It will be a while before I ask again.”
Gwen noticed another soldier standing behind this one. He wasn’t smiling like his companion. Beyond them, two more soldiers stood behind Tobias’ chair, one of them holding a knife to his throat.
They were afraid of her and with good reason. Even a slight excursion to relieve herself under guard could turn deadly when a wraith dancer was involved. They weren’t taking any chances, hoping the boy’s safety would keep her in line. Gwen sighed. Jillian knew she had a weakness for the boy, as well as for Ezekiah. While they remained safe, she would do nothing but obey.
Ezekiah slid backward suddenly. The smooth wall of the lava tube allowed little purchase for him and his men as they tried to make their way deeper inside Mount Doom. They had not known the way the dragons came by, neither had they been able to actually find the way of the priests. Varen’s so-called directions had been worthless. He supposed the entrance used by the priests might be hidden in some way. Such were the ways of priests; a mysterious brotherhood guarding their secrets well.
So, they had been forced to find their way in as best they could. An inactive pressure vent had presented itself a few hours after they had given up hope of finding the proper way in. Hours later they were still making difficult progress.
Ezekiah stopped when he hit Donavan’s shoulders. “Hey!” Donavan complained. Then he began to slide a little, but caught himself. Varen’s soldiers were lined up behind them, trying to make their way up.
“Sorry,” Ezekiah said. “It’s just so slippery in here.”
“At least it’s dry,” Donavan observed. “Can you imagine trying to do this with moisture pouring off of the walls?”
Ezekiah struggled on, taking one shallow hand-hold after another. He began to inch forward again. Within their packs of equipment, Varen had included the same sort of miner’s lamps that were used within the Urtah mines. They consisted of a small burning lamp mounted on the front of a wooden helmet. A small cone, made of metal, allowed the available light to be directed ahead.
“I think I can see a ledge above me,” Ezekiah said. He inched closer. His hand finally slapped down upon an open flat area. Ezekiah pulled himself upward until he could see over the top. Ahead, the ledge led opened up then went through a natural arch. He couldn’t see what lay beyond.
“What have you found?” one of the soldiers asked from somewhere below.
Ezekiah pulled his torso onto the ledge then swung his legs up after. He walked across the ledge while the others struggled to follow. His lamp’s corona reflected off of the stone wall ahead. He passed through the arch and looked around.
The path was relatively flat beneath his feet. He looked down with his lamp and found etchings running along the ground in both directions. On the opposite wall of the tunnel he saw carvings, scenes of conquest and power. Every dozen feet a shallow alcove in the walls held statues of the dragons. He shouted back to the men still trying to follow. “I think we’ve found the way used by the priests!” Only as an afterthought did he consider the echo of his voice through the tunnel. The dragons might already have heard them.
He heard the men struggling in the alcove behind him as, one by one they climbed onto the ledge and followed. Donavan came to his side in a moment. “What have you found?” he asked.
The chamber opened up before them. The glowing path stones provided only minimal light but they soon found a trough of lamp oil running down both sides of the room. Ezekiah lit the hub where the troughs met using the flame from his miner’s helmet. Trails of flame sparked and ran down both sides of the rectangular chamber. The flame trails split three quarters of the distance away, running perpendicular where they met to ignite a laver of oil in the middle of the room.
The result was quite dramatic and effective. The entire chamber glowed bright orange and yellow. Once illuminated, Ezekiah saw that they had found the mountain temple often spoken of in hushed tones. Those outside of the priesthood were not privy to its location, or even to knowledge of its existence. It was said that human sacrifice took place here, though no proof had ever been offered to Ezekiah’s knowledge.
However, the large laver of oil burning near the end of the room had cast light on many things. One of the most prominent fixtures was the stone table serving as an altar at the far end. Ezekiah noted that it was certainly the appropriate size and shape to hold a human upon it, and closer inspection revealed chains with manacles fastened into the rock at both ends. Those legends appeared to be true.
However, on the floor they saw many etched lines marked out with symbols. The lines formed geometric shapes criss-crossing on top of others, so that the priests could take up certain positions upon the floor depending upon their ritual.
“What is all of this?” Donavan asked.
Behind them, Varen’s soldiers began to file into the room carrying their backpacks loaded with explosives. Ezekiah remembered the rockets they had used against the dragons out on the streets of Babale. The explosives Varen had sent with them would presumably carry the same destructive power. Somewhere in the city below, Varen was carrying the detonator. One flip of the switch and it would all be over for them. Despite his desire to see the prophecies fulfilled, Ezekiah hoped Varen at least knew how to use this old weaponry without getting them all killed in the process.
“Geometric shapes,” Ezekiah explained. “That one is a pentagram. The one beneath it marks out the lines of a hexagram. The priests use these in their worship of the dragons.”
“And that’s where they sacrifice humans?” Donavan asked. Evidently he had heard the legends as well.
“I was thinking the same thing.”
“The sooner we blow this place apart and bury those devils the better,” said one of Varen’s soldiers coming up behind.
Ezekiah’s eyes had risen to examine the paintings upon the temple’s walls. “Devils,” he mused. The stones told a story of the dragons; their beginnings and rise to power in the world of men. He wondered at one painting in part
icular that depicted five angels descending from the heavenly realm to the physical realm where their forms changed. In their places five dragons were left in the world; a great red dragon leading them. “Your statement may hold more truth than you realize.”
TAKEOVER
Varen strode into the council chambers of the High Priest with Jillian following close behind. Benjamin, the High Priest, along with his retinue and various elders of the city, had already been assembled and left waiting for hours. A long rectangular table dominated the room. The High Priest sat at one end with the city elders seated down the table to either side. The chair at the opposite end of the table had been left vacant. Varen kicked it out of his way then slapped his palms down on the tabletop. “Gentlemen,” he began, “I can’t tell you how delighted I am to finally make your acquaintance formally.”
The men glared at him, but they did not speak. Varen’s soldiers lined both sides of the room, standing against the wall holding their guns ready. He straightened, suddenly all business. “Right, we’ll dispense with the levity,” Varen said. “I’m taking control of this city and dismantling the priesthood.”
Murmuring broke out among the leaders as they looked at one another then to Varen.
“I will not permit the worship of the dragons in my city,” he continued.
“This is outrageous!” Benjamin said as he stood to his feet at the far end of the table. “You have no right—”
“I have every right!” Varen bellowed. He walked down the length of the table toward the High Priest. Benjamin glanced at the other leaders. He stiffened as Varen came near him, holding his ground, but he spoke in quieter tones.
“Do you honestly expect us to turn from our gods simply because you have staged a temporary coup?” Benjamin asked.