The Dragon's Lover

by Samantha Sabian

  “Come on,” she whispered, barely audible. “I know there's one more.”

  And she was right. This time when the Reapers materialized, there were four of them, and the fourth materialized directly behind her. But in that fraction of a second before the creature fully occupied their plane, she felt the coldness on her back and smelled the odor of corrupted flesh. She thrust the enchanted sword rearward as the monster became fully corporeal, impaling it with perfect timing. It contorted about in a mass of noxious smelling smoke, screaming horrifically as it disappeared. All three Reapers now focused on her and without pausing, she swung the sword back around in a fluid motion, slicing the wraith nearest her in two. The creature had tried to dissipate to avoid the blow but Raine had been too fast. The abomination twisted in anger as it screamed in rage and pain, but it, too disappeared into oily smoke.

  Dagna tried to move into the path of the third, but she was thrown to the side. Her armor began to smoke at the point of contact, and Elyara scrambled on all fours to her side. The Reaper Shard reared to its full, terrifying height above the two of them and Elyara screamed. Lorifal stepped in front of them, swinging his battle ax about in a great arc to keep the wraith from his fallen comrades. Idonea turned her staff on the wraith, but the lightning seemed to no longer have any effect. Gunnar joined Lorifal in swinging wildly at the creature, if nothing else than to distract it from his vulnerable friends. Feyden took careful aim, but the creature jerked as he let it fly. It pierced a tendril, causing the Shard to scream in pain, but it sailed off into the jungle like the others, causing only minimal damage. Feyden cursed again.

  Raine was in a quandary. The fourth Reaper was nearly upon her but her companions were facing death. And with what most would consider extraordinary bravery, yet to a Scinterian was merely common sense, she took aim on the wraith that was bedeviling her comrades and sent her sword sailing end-over-end. It impaled the Reaper Shard in the back, causing it to shriek so loudly they all covered their ears. The smoke twisted and turned into a small vortex, then disappeared.

  But now Raine was facing the final Reaper unarmed. None of her non-enchanted weapons would have any effect on the creature. Her body was ice cold and it was possible she could freeze the monstrosity as she had the Membrane. But it would be a slow attack and it was likely the wraith would flit to the other plane then return, rendering the attack useless.

  “Feyden!” she yelled, holding out her arm.

  Feyden had notched his final arrow and was aimed at the Reaper. He had hesitated because his attacks had been so ineffectual and knew that he had only a single arrow left. And now Raine was standing there in an odd position, her arm out from her shoulder and parallel to the ground. But the position was familiar and the event in the elven camp came rushing back to him. He understood, and he altered his aim three feet to the left and let the arrow fly.

  The Reaper sought to dodge the missile, but the arrow was not aimed at the abomination but rather was aimed towards Raine's hand. And just as she had in the wood elf camp, she snatched the projectile from the air with her wrapped hand, twisted her wrist, and stabbed the wraith through its black heart. The creature seemed paralyzed, so stunned by the act it did not realize it was dead. There was no scream or shriek this time, only a low rumbling, a hissing, a semi-groan, and a question in a croaking voice filled with disbelief and wonder.

  “What are you?” the creature whispered.

  Raine stared into the monstrosity's eyes, and by extent, into the eyes of its summoner,. “Soon enough,” she said quietly, then yanked the arrow from the creature's body. The Reaper Shard hovered for a moment, faded in and out, then simply dissipated far more quietly than its companions.

  Elyara was working furiously to stop the damage to Bristol and Dagna, and Idonea, although not skilled at the healing arts, joined her. Feyden and Lorifal were a little numb from the quick battle and its most unexpected resolution. No one had ever battled four Reaper Shards and survived, let alone killed them all single-handedly. Although it was a feat of legendary proportions, it was not one without consequences.

  Feyden articulated those consequences. “I imagine your bounty is going up.”

  The circulation was returning to Raine's extremities. Although the cold she felt when confronting pure evil could be used as a weapon, it also could be debilitative by slowing her movement. She rubbed her hands together.

  “Yes,” she said, “I imagine I am in for quite a welcome at the Gate.” She approached Elyara. “How are they?”

  Elyara's expression communicated as much as her words. “I am afraid not well. I don't think they can continue.”

  This was the scenario Raine had feared. She could not simply leave her companions in the midst of the Veil; it was too dangerous. Yet it was clear they were in no condition to move forward. The thickness of the miasma at their current location told her they were getting very close to the outer gate.

  Dagna stood with difficulty, and she pulled Bristol to his feet. “We may not be much good in a fight, but we'll not stay here and we'll not go back, which leaves us only one choice.”

  Although it was an extremely brave declaration, Raine evaluated it with her Scinterian pragmatism. If she had to protect the two in battle, it might distract her. But leaving them behind would also prove a distraction as she had grown fond of them and abandoning them to the creatures of the Veil would weigh heavily on her mind. But the recent contact with both the Membrane and the Shard Wraiths would in a way indirectly protect her companions far more than all her physical prowess. Once inside the outer gate, she had little doubt that all attention would be focused upon her.

  “Very well. We'll keep moving. Let me know if you need rest.”

  CHAPTER 14

  The outer gates rose up out of the mist of the Veil like monolithic sentries. On each door respectively, carved in bold relief, was a beautiful but frightening woman. The small band stood before the gigantic doors, seven in awe and fear, one in neither. Raine had stood before these doors before, giving little attention to the figure carved on the great doors. But now the image filled her with a deep foreboding.

  “Idonea,” she said, turning to the dark-haired woman, “who is this woman?”

  “I believe it is Hel, the goddess of the underworld.” Idonea said, examining the carvings, as well as the lettering and figures that surrounded them.

  The cruel arrogance on the face of the goddess was breath-taking in its most literal sense; her expression made it difficult to breath. She possessed a hideous beauty, a combination of ravishing good looks and pure unadulterated evil, a look of seduction that did not hide the fact that she intended to brutally rape you then rip your head off afterward, or perhaps even before.

  “And what does the inscription say?” Raine asked.

  Idonea turned to Raine. There was an odd disquiet in Raine's voice, a pronounced uneasiness that was foreign to her. Idonea's reply was measured as she examined the other woman. “It says 'where hope dies.' Is something wrong?”

  Raine shook her head, part a negation, and part as if to shake off something. “No, no, nothing's wrong. I am a bit disturbed that the gate is open.”

  The others had missed that minor detail, having been so absorbed in the horror and magnificence of the gates themselves.

  “Why is it open?” Lorifal asked.

  “Well,” Raine said, resignation in her voice, “I'm guessing it means someone is expecting us.”

  The open gate was enough of an anomaly to cause some of Raine's disquiet, but Idonea had a feeling that there was more to it. Something about the gate had deeply disturbed her.

  Raine pushed through the gigantic gate, which swung open surprisingly easy given the enormity of its size, and the others followed. Her thoughts for once were not on what they were about to face, but rather on something she had faced previously. She had not recognized it at the time, even having stood before Hel's Gate before. But now, as she had stood before the gigantic carved relief of the Queen of the Unde
rworld, she recognized the features instantly.

  The face that had appeared just before she had frozen the Membrane, the one of unutterable beauty and unspeakable evil that had stared out among the orgy of appendages, had been Hel's.

  The courtyard was as immense as the outer gates. They were now within a walled enclosure that gave no sense of being enclosed because of its sheer size; it seemed to extend miles in every direction. In stark contrast to the untamed jungle of the Veil, the courtyard appeared well-maintained. The ground was smooth and level, patterned with black and red tiles that curved about in flowing pathways. There were trees that seemed to bleed a red sap where they had been carefully pruned. Torches were placed every few feet, and a quick glance would give the illusion that the entire courtyard was ablaze.

  The small band walked slowly into the courtyard. It was strangely empty, and there was little noise beyond the licking flames of numerous torches. They appeared tiny figures in the immense space.

  “I expected thousands of Hyr'rok'kin here,” Feyden said quietly, “this is where they are coming from, correct?”

  “Yes,” Raine said, her eyes scanning in every direction, “the true Gate, Hel's Gate, is there.” She pointed to the far end of the courtyard which seemed miles away. There was a gate similar to the outer one they had just passed through, but this one was even larger with more intricate and hideous carvings upon it. Even from their great distance, the immensity of the gate was evident. “That is the entry to the underworld and their only access into the Veil, and then into our world. I am sure this has been a highway to them of late, but I don't understand why they aren't here now.”

  That was not entirely a true statement. Truly, their band could have been attacked at any time, across the Empty Land, through the Veil, and now in the courtyard. Perhaps their resounding defeat of the Hyr'rok'kin each time they had met had tempered their enemy's response. Or perhaps the astonishing destruction of the Reaper Shards had created uncertainty in the enemy's tactics. But it was Raine's experience that such an enemy would generally respond to such defeats with overwhelming force, which meant their motivation went beyond simply killing them.

  They walked slowly across the immense courtyard, dwarfed by the grotesque statuary that spotted the grounds. After what seemed an eternity of walking, they came to the center of the courtyard where an enormous set of scales was placed. The two platforms towered above them, one black as night, made of some type of ebony material, and the other white as pristine snow, appearing to be marble. The scales were balanced, each platform level with the other. The mechanism was intricate, a marvel of engineering.

  Lorifal was dumbfounded. “This should not be here.”

  “You know this?” Raine asked.

  “Yes,” he replied. “My people built this. These are the scales of light and dark, created to measure the balance of good and evil in the world.”

  “For what purpose?” Idonea asked.

  “Our intentions were noble,” Lorifal said, gazing at the structure in awe, “but in vain. The goal was to increase the amount of good in the world. But no matter how hard we tried or what we did, the scales would return even with their fulcrum. We could change things for the better short-term, or sometimes they would change for the worse when our efforts were misguided, but the balances always returned to equilibrium. We could not find a way to use them.”

  “I wonder what they are doing here?” Feyden murmured.

  “I can't imagine it's a good thing,” Raine said. “We mere mortals might be incapable of altering the balance, but whatever was powerful enough to bring the machinery here might be powerful enough to tip the scales.” She gave one last look at the immense piece of equipment. “And I doubt it will be toward the light.”

  They set out again towards the main Gate. Their progress was slow, both because of the immense distance they were covering, but also because of their wounded companions. Elyara gamely tried to support Dagna, but Lorifal soon relieved her. He was the perfect height for the bard to lean upon and she gratefully accepted his assistance. Gunnar helped Bristol along, steadfastly refusing Feyden's offer of assistance. He seemed to feel a sense of responsibility for Bristol's condition, although it had not been his fault.

  They seemed to be nearing the great Gate although it was hard to judge the distance based on the sheer size of the structure. Off to the left was a raised platform, a structure that Raine was certain had not been there before. At first glance, it did not seem that large, but as they approached, it became apparent that there were hundreds of marble steps leading up to the dais, and the platform itself seemed something of an altar. They stopped at the base of the stairs uncertainly. Raine looked to the gate to her right, which was still tightly closed. She looked back at the great scales, trying to fathom their purpose and position. She then sighed and started up the stairs with the others following.

  They had to stop halfway up to rest. Raine was tense and thought of continuing on her own. Anxiety swirled about them as if it had taken physical form, and she forcibly pushed it away. They continued on.

  Lorifal was breathing hard by the time they reached the top. The air had thickened as they progressed across the great courtyard, and it had grown hotter. It was even hotter on the altar. Sweat ran down his back in rivulets. Beads of sweat appeared on Idonea's forehead. In fact all were perspiring heavily with the exception of Raine, who was dry simply because her body had grown colder the closer they came to the top of the stairs.

  A man stood there. A man dressed in black robes. A man with strange green eyes and thin features that bordered on cadaverous. Oddly, this did not make him unattractive but rather somewhat mesmerizing. Raine examined him, and he examined the band as a whole.

  “Hmm,” she said, which brought his intense and fearful gaze around to her. He smiled broadly and Dagna took an inadvertent step backward, nearly tumbling down the stairs. He had a mouthful of razor sharp teeth.

  “Hmm,” Raine said again, her unconcern pronounced, and this caused the man to smile even more broadly.

  “I have been waiting for you,” he said in a deep, rumbling voice. It was not loud, yet echoed throughout the great courtyard like thunder rolling across an open plain. “I thought you would be here long before now.”

  “We ran into a few mishaps,” Raine said casually.

  This brought the fearful gaze around to the others of the band. “Yes, your little troupe has provided me ample material for my experiments, allowing me to fine-tune my process.”

  Raine's eyes narrowed. “What experiments?”

  The man's eyes gleamed. “Here, let me show you.”

  He raised his arms and the sleeves of his black robes hung down like wings, giving him a dreadful appearance. An awful, grating noise filled the courtyard and all turned towards the great Gate. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, the gigantic doors began to swing outward. They did not move quickly, nor did they move far, but the power required to effect even that small movement was unfathomable. And as soon as the doors were opened shoulder-width, Hyr'rok'kin began squeezing through the opening. Granted, they came through in single file and not with any great speed, but still they seeped from the Underworld like noxious fumes.

  Raine looked back at the dark-robed man. It was an extraordinary feat, the power almost unrivaled. But she did not think him capable of opening the doors any further, nor did she think him capable of holding them open for any sustained length of time.

  “And that is just the beginning,” the man said as if sensing her thoughts. He waved his arms once more and a great metallic clanking rolled across the courtyard. Link by link, a chain began forming from the ebony platform of the great scales. It was hard to judge the size of the chain, but each link had to have been the height of a Marrow Shard or greater. The chain stretched out, a sharp clank emitting each time a link formed and attached itself to the chain. The band watched in amazement as the immense chain stretched across the courtyard, then attached its final link to the left door of the great
gate.

  Raine watched the Hyr'rok'kin pour from the gates, still trying to fathom the purpose of the contraption. As their numbers increased, a tortured squeal of metal-on-metal came from the scales as very slowly, the ebony platform began to tip toward the dark. The great chain began to tighten, and as it did so, it began to pull the door of the gate. Once completely taut, the door began to slowly move, and Raine understood. As the darkness poured out of the Underworld, it tipped the scales towards evil. This in turn put strain on the chain, opening the doors ever-so-slightly more. At some point, the Hyr'rok'kin would enter two abreast, the doors would open more, and it would become a self-sustaining process. Theoretically, it could only be countered by good, which would re-balance the scales and slacken the chain.

  The man smiled his evil, fang-filled smile once more. “And that is where your little band has proven so instrumental. Each time I moved the scales out-of-balance, your ridiculously selfless acts, your camaraderie, your foolhardy bravery, would shift the balance back, giving me more and more detail on the process.”

  This did not seem an entirely truthful statement to Raine. “Instrumental?” she said, “Or frustrating? How many times have you opened that gate only to have us unknowingly shut it?”

  The smile disappeared abruptly, then reappeared once more in an even more hideous variation. This one held a sly malevolence in addition to the earlier dark glee. “I thought your death alone would tip the scales to the breaking point.”

  “Breaking point?” Raine said. She at last understood the full extent of this monster's plan. “You don't want to just open the gates, you want to tear them down.”