Complete In the Service of Dragons

by William Robert Stanek

  Ærühn stood over the fallen, dismay and perhaps confusion reflected in his eyes as he looked upon them. His long hair hung down, covering his face in a blanket of braids and beads. He had taken their weapons, a flask of ale, several bags of water, what armor he could salvage. It was the spell woven upon them that he could sense but not see that troubled him. He could feel the same spell in the air all around him now that he searched for it.

  Geoffrey grabbed the dragon man’s arm. This was the fourth in a long series of rooms that they had come to. All the rooms had been occupied and they had had to fight their way through each. “We must move on,” he told the dragon man.

  Ærühn looked up at him as if through a haze. Strange as it seemed to him, he could see Geoffrey but not see him—if such a thing were possible. “Yes, of course,” he answered reflexively, only now realizing that he spoke in dragon speech and the other spoke in the language of men and yet they both understood each other.

  Geoffrey hurried to catch up with Captain Brodst and the others. Captain Brodst stood next to Midori, Calyin next to Lord Serant. Ayrian waited impatiently near the door, acting as look out. Keeper Martin spoke quietly. “Nothing is what you think it is,” he was telling the others as Ærühn and Geoffrey joined the group. “Isn’t that so?” he asked the dragon man.

  Ærühn nodded but didn’t understand.

  “We were all brought to this place for a reason. There is an ancient power here. It drew us in as surely as the scent of a flower draws a bee. What we must try to understand is why?”

  “No,” interrupted Lord Serant. “What we must know is where we are. Somewhere in the Rift Range I suspect, perhaps the Endless Ice.”

  “I was getting to that,” Martin said. “But first you must understand the why of it. I think I have the answer.” He looked to the dragon man. “Has the truth of it come to you yet?”

  “This place makes us see what we want to see,” Ærühn said. He pulled a blade from his belt, turned to Geoffrey. “This is the blade you were given. It was expected that you should kill me with it. I will ask you again, why didn’t you?”

  Geoffrey took the blade so as not to have to talk about it again. “With you I have no quarrel.”

  “Yet you left the blade for me to take. How did you know I wouldn’t turn it against you?”

  “If you were going to kill me, you could have done this while I was unconscious. Instead you put a blanket over me to keep away the chill. You gave me food and drink when you could have kept it for yourself. If I was truly your enemy, why would you have done such a thing?”

  Ærühn snatched the blade from Geoffrey’s hand and threw it across the room. “Do you know so little of my kind? I am a Dragon Man of the Stone Shields. There is no honor in killing the sick or the weak. My punishment was to nurse my enemy back to health so that I might see through his eyes before I battled him to victory or defeat. My punishment was to bring me low—to see as you because I did not see. Don’t you understand this?”

  Ayrian stepped between Geoffrey and Ærühn. “He does not know your law. How could he?”

  “The Law is,” said Ærühn. “It is known to all.”

  Keeper Martin touched a hand to Ærühn’s shoulder. “It is what I was trying to explain. We do not see as you see. This place has a hold over us, as it has over you. It makes us see differently and only when we question do we start to see true. I suspect we are in a wayside of old. A place where all things seem familiar but unfamiliar.”

  “A wayside?” asked Captain Brodst.

  “I’ve only heard tell of it in the most ancient of the texts. But I believe this is a place between the realm gates.”

  Calyin swept back her long black hair, looked at the keeper quizzically. “Keeper, the day is long. We must be moving along.”

  “We are caught in a wayside,” Martin explained. “We are caught in the place between.”

  “The between? With the souls of the dead?” scoffed Geoffrey. “Surely you jest, Keeper. The between is for those passing beyond this life. It is where the Choice is made and the Wish.”

  “True, yes, but it is also used by realm travelers. Before any of you interrupt me, I would like Ærühn to tell you of the dark land of the hunt. I would like Ayrian to tell you of the Kingdoms of the Skies. I would like to tell you of Uver and a time when his gates connected all the lands. So Ærühn, will you tell us how your people move from the frozen land to the dark land of fire?”

  “The Great Door. It is known.”

  “I’m afraid that it is not known. We know little of the Land of the Dark Fire or the Frozen Land of Ice and Snow.” Martin swept his hand around the circle. “They know nothing. I know only what I’ve been able to piece together. The one thing I do not know is if it has begun. Has it, Ærühn? Is that why you are here? Are you the Hand on the Wall, Ærühn?”

  Ærühn glared at Keeper Martin. His large round eyes suddenly wider than seemed possible. “He will know. He will be angry.”

  “Tell me of Prince Sy’dan Entreatte. Tell me of the High Lord. Tell me of the lost kingdom. What do the dark elves plan?”

  “What would you have me say?”

  “Will my telling do as well?” asked Belajl Entreatte, High Lord of Shost, as he and his people entered the room from hidden recesses.

  “It would,” Martin said, his expression betraying no hint of surprise, though he hurriedly hastened everyone to the doorway Ayrian was supposed to have been watching.

  “It will not work for you,” Belajl said.

  “But of course it will.” Martin unrolled the small piece of parchment he held in his hand. As he faced the high lord and his men, he spread his arms wide to keep the others back.

  “You underestimate my resolve. You were brought here to change the path and so it has come to pass.”

  “Ah, but you forget that in the time before time, the lands were ruled by titans, dragons, and the great eagles. The Master Keeper knew, and so I know. I did not have to seek out the Hand on the Wall, the Hand sought me out. Is that not so, Ærühn?”

  Ærühn nodded solemnly.

  Keeper Martin spun around and pushed the others through the door. He ran down the long hall behind them, speaking the words of power from the parchment. The gate formed in front of them. Martin was the last to step through to the other side. As he did so, he could hear Belajl Entreatte scream, “May the two sisters carry you away! May you know the eternal sadness of Adrynne!”

  In that moment, as he was swept from the world, Keeper Martin couldn’t help thinking that he did know, and that there was one who knew the sadness and the longing better than any other.

  

  Thought and movement returned to Adrina. “Tnavres, come forth,” she commanded. The tiny dragon exited her flesh snout first, dropping to the ground beside her. It extended its wings, looking up at her.

  Adrina took in the sight around her: the dark creatures everywhere as far as the eye could see. Noman’s steady hand on her shoulder. Amir and Xith battling the creatures with blade and magic.

  “You are the key, Adrina,” Noman told her. “You have the power to end this.”

  “What power? I have no power.”

  “Do not play with me, girl,” Noman commanded. “Time is short. Do what you must.”

  “The mark,” Xith called out from behind her as he unleashed a wave of flame into the ranks of the wraith. “You have the mark, Adrina. You are the servant. Did he not tell you the price?”

  Across the field, the shadow warrior king looked on with sudden interest. The appearance of the girl was as foretold. The master would come now.

  Adrina turned around to Xith, her mouth agape, tears in her eyes. She felt overwhelmed. It was all too much for her. As she turned, she extended her arms. Tnavres took this as a sign to sink his teeth into the flesh of her hand. His touch brought the mortification of her flesh.

  “What is it you seek?” said a deep, powerful voice and as it boomed across the field, everything and everyone stop
ped as if frozen in time.

  Noman knew at once the words were addressed to him and not to any of the others. “Show yourself.”

  “As you wish,” said the other. The air over the field filled with a great clutter of tiny flying creatures. The creatures became one and that one creature was the Dragon King.

  “You must restore order. That which has been released must be returned.”

  “I am but the keeper. This is but the game of the ages.”

  “Untrue, untrue, you are what you choose to be. The game is as you choose it to be.”

  The Dragon King roared his disapproval of Noman’s words. “One truth. Choose well.”

  “No more games, Bæhmangarin.”

  The Dragon King called forth his queens as he spread out his enormous wings and together they blew fire down from the sky. The flames flew to the corners of the field, cleansing the earth in all directions. The flames enveloped the shadow warrior king and all his minions turning them to ash. The beat of the mighty wings blew the dark ash from the field; the flames continued to lick the earth.

  “No more games,” Noman repeated.

  The Dragon King cast his head down, his flames bathing the earth. Try as he might, his flames did not reach Noman or the others. “This is my domain!” he called out. “Be gone!” He called to his queens and they joined him in raining fire down upon the outsiders.

  “Bæhmangarin,” Noman said. “Surely you’ve not forgotten the pledge. The faithful, those that serve are protected. Is it not so?”

  “My princess,” the Dragon King called out. “Step away from the others.”

  “No,” Adrina said defiantly, “I will not.”

  “Do this or the prince dies.”

  Her eyes wide, Adrina looked to Noman and then to Xith. “You lie!”

  “Show her!” the Dragon King commanded of the tiny dragon at Adrina’s feet. Suddenly Adrina saw her brother. Valam was dressed in battle armor with his great sword strapped on his back. He stood on the balcony of a great tower, in a city that was foreign to her. Father Jacob was to his left. The queen of the elves was to his right. Lines of soldiers stood at the base of the tower. She heard shouts and cheers. “To the High Prince!” went the call. In the distance, beyond the walls of the city, she saw a large fleet of ships. Across the dark waters behind the ships, she saw the great black wave of an army tens of thousands strong sweeping in from the plains.

  “Forgive me,” Adrina said, her voice trembling as she stepped away from the others. The Dragon King roared his approval. In his upturned claw, he held a great sphere and he cast the sphere into the fading image of the prince and his men; then he and his queens set upon Xith, Noman, and Amir.

  It was as before; the dragons could not reach the three with their flames so the dragons set upon them with fang and claw. Amir blocked the powerful jaws and terrible clawed hands of the Dragon King with his twin blades. Xith and Noman defended against the queen dragons as best as they could. Although their magic had little affect on dragon kind, it still stung as they unleashed it.

  “It is time for truths,” Noman told Amir.

  “It is,” the titan replied.

  Noman turned to Xith. He looked directly at the shaman as he transformed into his true self.

  “It cannot be,” Xith muttered to himself as he watched Noman change form before his eyes. The figure before him was familiar but older, much older than he remembered.

  “Aven, is that you?”

  “It is I, old friend.”

  It was unlike Xith, the great shaman, the watcher of old, to be at a loss for words but he was, at least momentarily.

  Bæhmangarin and his queens showed their great disapproval by blasting the group with fire. Aven stood defiantly within the flames, his outstretched hands keeping the flames away from the others. “My father, Dnyarr, Elf King of Greye, would disapprove.”

  “You betrayed him,” roared the Dragon King. “You betrayed us all. You are the great betrayer.”

  Aven shook his head. “He betrayed his people. No single being was meant to rule over all the lands. There must always be balance. Surely you understand this. The balance must be restored.”

  Bæhmangarin and his queens bowed their heads. The Dragon King looked to Adrina. “You are the key, princess. The Fourth will listen and return. The balance will be restored.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  The majestic spires of a palace grew before them. From a distance it appeared that a great serpent enveloped each, baring its head at each tower’s summit. The company followed an ancient byway that unfolded toward the palace gates, which stood agape as they approached. Amir and Aven led the way, with Shchander and Shalimar close behind them. Adrina walked beside Xith with Tnavres perched on her shoulder.

  The palace was oddly still as they entered. The eyes of most were fixed on the structure directly before them. Its six towers and one center spire with broad stairs circling their way to lofty pinnacles inspired their hearts. Here they paused, for the long race through the frozen wastes of the Lost Lands was now at an end. For a time they relished the moment. Eventually they did continue on, but the urgency was gone. The pace was slow and deliberate.

  They marched up many stairs and came to stand before the doors of a grand hall. They did not hesitate or ask permission to enter; instead, they held their heads high, almost with regal airs, and passed within. The first signs that the palace was occupied arose before their eyes. Flames burned from huge urns placed along the corridor. A faint glow from a distant point told them where the end of the long hall lay, and as they walked its length their footsteps echoed, replacing the silence.

  A set of double doors sat before them, but they did not have to touch a finger to them. The doors crept inward, as if on command, just after the travelers had paused. Adrina was visibly the most animated of all. She felt that here she would have her answers, and the past would be well behind her. She followed Amir and was the second one into the chamber beyond the great double doors.

  The room was unexpectedly dark and shadowy, but its echoes gave its depth away as they slowly faded. Upon a raised dais low flames burned, casting eerie shadows about the chamber. Amir put a hand on Adrina’s shoulder as she sought to move past him. He walked alongside her into the gloom. As their eyes adjusted, it became readily apparent that the shades of gray held shapes, and the images about the room called out to them.

  Most visible of all the images was a figure standing on top of the dais, and as it lifted its arms up toward the ceiling the shadows were lifted. The hungry tongues of many flames sprang bright and crisp from their cisterns set along the walls. A handful surrounded the dais and swept out along a path toward the guests. The fires along the path seemed to writhe and move, dancing with the shadows cast upon the floor.

  A herald of welcome issued forth and an enormous host swept from the recesses of the chamber. “We have waited long!” said a voice, pleasant and familiar. Amir and Adrina continued toward it. The others were more reluctant to follow. They held their places despite the warm invitation. Adrina turned to look back at Xith and Aven, waving for them to follow. “Do as you must,” Aven whispered to her, but he made no move to catch up with her.

  With her right hand, she scratched Tnavres under the chin absently as she walked, thinking how marvelous a place they had come to. Xith had promised her that here she would have all her answers. It was all she could do to keep words from springing from her lips. She wanted the questions answered and she no longer had the patience to wait.

  At first she thought that the one on the raised dais was a woman, but as they drew closer she began to think otherwise. It was definitely the face of a man that she gazed upon, and she also remarked in her mind his fairness. She returned the gentle laughter in his voice as he spoke again.

  Amir grabbed Adrina’s hand and pulled her back, but she wanted to go forward. Her laughter fell hollow about the room as it died and she wondered what she had done in life to deserve such abasement. Further tepid
words brought Adrina to her knees in deep, fitful sobs.

  The eyes, Adrina remembered the eyes and the voice; it was so familiar, yet it, too, was changed. “Stand up, child,” whispered Xith, coming up behind her and helping her to stand. His matter-of-factness sparked her anger. “Why have you done this to me?” she cried out.

  “I have done nothing your destiny would not have brought to you.”

  “But, you were—” The remainder of Adrina’s words were drowned out by her tears.

  “I had no choice,” returned Xith.

  “You could have—”

  “Silence!” screamed a loud and powerful voice. “I demand silence, and I will have it! I have not waited and watched for so long to hear your pitiful cries. Put them on their knees! I like them that way. And if they should stand, kill them all save the one. I want her to suffer until the last when I take that which is due me. Then when her suffering is at its worst and only then may you kill her.”