Wrath of the Dragon: (The Chronicles of Dragon, Series 2, Book 8) (Tail of the Dragon)

by Craig Halloran

  “I suppose I should make the most of it.”

  I’ll never understand her.

  CHAPTER 7

  Being underground posed interesting problems. Without seeing the sun setting in the sky, a sense of time was lost. What might have been minutes also might have been hours. Most dragons were used to this in the sense that it didn’t bother them. Dragons lived so long that they didn’t have much worry for how much time was spent.

  Nath was sitting with his back against the wall inside a small cave. He’d managed to clear out the debris, making the nook somewhat cozy. For what he assumed to be days, he and Selene had scoured The Deep. It was troubling. Most places had a back door, a way of escape. But in the case of The Deep, there was only one way out, and that was up.

  He scratched at the dirt floor. With his fingernail, he drew the face of Selene. The two of them had come to a point that required giving one another space. They’d settled in somehow, like an old married couple. Nath didn’t go after her unless she needed him.

  “How are things going, Nath?” Selene called up from the main chamber below. “Have you found a way out from that cave yet?”

  He didn’t even crawl out to look at her when he replied. “It’s giving me plenty of inspiration. As a matter of fact, I think we could dig from the bottom to the top. It’s all dirt. I don’t see why not.”

  “That would take months, possibly years.”

  “It’s not as if I have anything else going on. Perhaps I should give it a try. Say, why don’t you fetch me a wheelbarrow?”

  “A wheelbarrow?” Selene sounded astonished. “That’s a silly idea.”

  “Well, I can’t do it without a wheelbarrow.”

  Selene popped up in the air and landed in front of Nath’s cave. She’d just leapt the equivalent of two stories. She eased inside, eyeing the ceiling. “I don’t see any evidence of your tunnel.”

  Nath poked his nose into the ceiling. “But I can see it right here. It leads straight up through the earth until it touches the clouds in the sky.”

  “Ah, it sounds marvelous. I can’t wait to see it when it’s finished.”

  Nath shrugged. “It will be impossible without a wheelbarrow.”

  “What about a shovel, would that help?”

  He flicked a pebble into the back of the cave. “No, that would only make things more complicated. I’m not very good with shovels.”

  She kicked him. “You’re a silly man.” His finger drawing on the ground caught her eye. “Is that me in the dirt?”

  “That’s you.”

  She crawled over and stared at it from an inverted angle. “It’s lovely, even though it’s dirt. I can’t tell if I’m smiling or not.”

  “Yes, I have the same problem.”

  She gave him a playful little slap in the face with her tail. “And I can’t tell if you’re joking or not.”

  “Me, joke?” He wrapped his fingers up in the end of her tail. The snakelike appendage squeezed his hand like the strong grip of a blacksmith. “I wonder why I never grew a tail in my moments?”

  “Perhaps you wouldn’t have been smart enough to use it. It’s like having another limb, you know.”

  “Yes, I know, I’ve been a dragon before: tail, wings, and all.” He shook his head. “Not that I mind your little visit, but you seem to be brimming for a change. Did you find a way out?”

  “No, but much of my strength has returned. Follow me, I have an idea.”

  Together, they walked back to the entrance to The Deep.

  “This again?” Nath said. “What exactly do you have in mind?”

  “I’m going to lift you up.”

  He looked at her and then up at the entrance to the well. “On your shoulders?”

  “No, with my magic. Levitation.”

  “You can do that?”

  “We’ll see.”

  “I’ll never understand why you got powers that I don’t have. I’m the Dragon King. One would think that I’d be able to do just about anything.”

  “Remember, I was a priestess before. Harnessing the realm of magic came from my training. There are many things I can do. Besides, you’re all brawny, a warrior, more used to using your body instead of your mind.”

  “With a body like this, who needs brains?”

  “You’re the only dragon I know who can flatter himself.”

  Nath tossed his hair. “I can, can’t I?” He looked up into the portal. “Let’s get on with it then. What do you need me to do?”

  “Be silent and still.” Selene closed her eyes and filled her chest with air. “And if you can do that, then anything is possible.”

  “Haha—ack!” An unseen force lifted Nath off the ground. Invisible cords and tendrils seemed to be pushing and pulling him at the same time. Up, up, up he went, high into the well, moving slowly at first before gaining speed until his hair rustled. “You’re doing it, Selene! You’re doing it!”

  This is great! Finally we’re going to get out of here. My, won’t Eckubahn be surprised the next time he sees me!

  He sailed up at least halfway before his ascension began to slow. His head glanced down. “Uh, Selene, why am I slowing?”

  The mystic force that held him began to sink. His body bounced downward like a bad elevator in a rickety shaft. Sinking faster, he started swimming in midair. “Seleeeeeene!”

  Nath plummeted downward. He stretched his arms out until he hit the greasy stone walls of the well. Somehow, he dug in enough to slow his fall. He slid down the pipe, digging in his claws with all his might. It wasn’t enough. “Aaaaaaaaah!”

  Covered in grease and oil, he hit the floor of The Deep so hard he lost his breath. He had painful stars swirling above his eyes when Selene leaned over him.

  Eyes wide, she said, “I’m sorry, Nath. I didn’t have enough strength in me. You’re too heavy.”

  Wincing, he pushed up to his elbows. “So it’s my fault?”

  “No, certainly not. I’m…I must not be strong enough.” Her face sagged. “I’ve failed.”

  Nath pounded the ground with his fists. “I really thought we had it. Blast my scales! We’re never going to get out of here!” He let out a roar into the well that made the oil drip like rain. Even Selene recoiled. Chest heaving, he stood up, and with head down he walked away.

  An all-powerful voice sounded in his head.

  “Settle down, Nath.”

  Nath’s head snapped up. “Father!”

  CHAPTER 8

  The voice in Nath’s head dropped him to his knees. He stared down the corridor in a trancelike state. “Is that you?” he whispered.

  “Nath, what is it? I don’t see anyone,” Selene said, following his line of vision.

  He held up his hand. “Be silent.”

  The voice of Balzurth sounded off again as clear as a bell. “Nath, you must free me.”

  “Father, you’re alive? I’ve seen your body.” The scales on his arms tingled. “I tried to take you to the Dragon Graveyard, but I failed.”

  “No, Nath, listen to me, my body might have fallen, but my spirit is alive and well.” Balzurth let out a pain-filled roar. “Help me!”

  Perspiration coated Nath’s face. A searing pain wedged itself in Nath’s mind. He teetered in his stance, finding support in Selene’s strong arms. “Where are you, Father? Tell me!”

  “The Dark Plane. Find me, Son. Find me!” Balzurth let out a howling moan, and his voice faded away.

  “Father, come back! How do I find you?” Nath jumped to his feet and wheeled around, searching in all directions. “Father!” Sweat dripped from his chin to the floor.

  Selene caught his arms. “Tell me, Nath, what do you see? What did you hear?” She squeezed his arm. “Your scales are so hot.”

  “I know. I felt the heat. His pain. It was Balzurth. He was suffering. Running and hiding. A great wall of flame and black smoke swallowed him whole. Or his essence. I have to find him, Selene. He’s alive!”

  “Nath, are you certain? The spiri
ts can play many tricks on the likes of us. You have to be sure.”

  “No, I know it was him. No one else has a voice like that. Trust me, I’d know.” Every fiber of his being was ready to spring. He took the cool cave air into his lungs. “I’ve got to do better, Selene. I can’t let the enemy get the best of me anymore. Father is counting on me. I just wish he would have told me more.”

  “What did he say?”

  “He says he’s in the Abyss. His spirit, that is.” He looked into her eyes. “Do you know anything about the Dark Realm?”

  “Very little. I don’t know that it’s a real place so much as the realm between life and death. Every race has a different name for it, I believe. Some call it the Abyss and others the World of Spirits.” She clasped his hand in hers. “At least we know he’s alive, so to speak.”

  “Yes. Between life and death. He said it was his spirit, perhaps something like Eckubahn. Father never destroyed them, he trapped them. They were harmless without their bodies, at least in this world.”

  Selene’s face paled.

  “What is it?”

  “I’m sorry, Nath. Perhaps I know more than I care to admit. The spirit realm is where Gorn Grattack came from. He stayed there, manipulating the world until he drew enough power to return.”

  “You don’t think he’s still there now, do you?” Nath said. “I thought I killed him.”

  “I did too. Perhaps that’s what your father is running from. There is much evil in the Dark Plane.”

  Pacing the corridor, Nath raked his claws through his hair. “Why would Father’s spirit be there? If anything, he should be resting in the realm beyond the murals. The Dark Plane is for the wicked, isn’t it?”

  Selene shrugged. “I wish I knew more. Perhaps there is still life in your father’s body. As long as he lives, his spirit can’t pass elsewhere. Maybe, he didn’t want to pass from Nalzambor and he ventured into another plane to buy time. Perhaps he’s still fighting from within.”

  “I don’t know very much about such things, Selene. All I know is what my gut is telling me. Father won’t last much longer there if we don’t help him. I’ve a very bad feeling that his spirit can perish there. I felt him…dying.”

  “We can’t let that happen, Nath. There has to be a way out of here. Certainly there’s something you have buried deep inside that handsome skull of yours.” She drilled her finger into his temple. “You are the Dragon King. You have knowledge of this world others don’t have. Find it. Harness it.”

  “But I’ve lost so much of my power. If I only had wings, we could fly right out of this hole!”

  “No more doubts, Nath. You have what you have. Use it. How did Gorlee get out?”

  “He turned himself into a triant and was big enough to crawl out, as I recall. The phantom was there too. The foul creature could float its prey up and down. I can’t do any of that. I’ve tried to change into a dragon, like I used to. It’s just not happening.”

  “I must admit that I can’t either, and believe me, I’ve tried.” Selene tied her hair back in a ponytail. “Perhaps we should try it together.”

  CHAPTER 9

  Inside Dragon Home, also known as the Mountain of Doom, Brenwar finished chiseling away on the lid of the stone sarcophagus. Dragon Home was equipped with all the finest tools and had workshops that rivaled those of all the races. Every item was organized and like new. It was an odd thing from a time long lost, back when men and dragons often worked together. That time was long before Brenwar. Sweat dripped onto the stone image he carved.

  “Are you crying?” Ben asked. The old warrior stood beside the stone sarcophagus, dabbing his forehead with a rag. The furnace behind him glowed red-hot. “I don’t know why you insist on doing masonry in the smithy. Certainly it would be preferable to work somewhere cooler.”

  “Dwarves don’t cry,” Brenwar murmured. “And if you’re here to be comfortable, then I suggest you leave.”

  “I’m not going anywhere. I just don’t see the purpose in working in these insufferable conditions. It’s been days. I can only stand so much.”

  Brenwar stopped hammering and eyeballed Ben. “If it makes you feel any better, I’m about finished. Hand me that whisk.”

  Ben reached on the worktable behind him and picked up a small broom. “This?”

  “Yes, that.”

  “Catch.” Ben tossed the whisk.

  Brenwar snatched it out of the air. “You’d think you’d know your way around a forge better.”

  Arms tucked under his armpits, Ben mocked, “You’d think you’d know your way around a forge better.” He sighed. “Sorry, I shouldn’t do that. Whether or not you’ll admit it, I’m sure this is a hard thing for you.”

  “No, it’s not. Bayzog’s dead. I just want to give him a proper burial.”

  “It’s a sad thing, really, that we can’t take him to Elome to be buried. I’m sure his family would have a wonderful glade where they could lay him to rest with all of the proper ceremonies.”

  “Maybe.” Brenwar dusted the stone debris out of the cracks and lines he chiseled. “His family has strange ways with him being only part-elf and all.” He scratched his head with his skeleton hand. “I don’t think it would matter to him one way or the other where he was buried. But this chamber I’m making will hold him for now. Once this war is over, we’ll see to it he gets a proper burial.”

  “You’re a true friend, Brenwar. I’m sure he appreciates it.”

  Brenwar blew the dust out of the cracks. “Maybe.”

  Ben took a closer look at the image on the lid. Squinting, he said, “I’m sorry, but what exactly did you carve? The stone is dark and foreign to me. I can barely make anything out but elven or dwarven lines.”

  “You’ll have to wait for it.”

  “Huh, how long?”

  The door leading out of the forge swung inward and banged against the wall.

  “Sorry.” Rerry was accompanied by Sasha and Samaz. All of them were dressed in white robes, a type of elven ceremonial garb. Sasha carried the Elderwood Staff and led the way down the platform of steps into the forge. She walked right up to Ben, who was standing by the sarcophagus, and kissed him on the cheek.

  “Oh, you shouldn’t do that.” Ben blushed. “I’m all sweaty.”

  Brenwar grunted. “It’s not from working.”

  Sasha offered a warm smile. “It’s fine, friends. It’s certainly a sad time, but we are ready. I was, well, I just wanted to see the both of you. I’m very thankful for what you’re doing.” She stared into the sarcophagus. “I think he would like it.”

  “It’s not complete.” Brenwar wandered over to the furnace. He put on a set of heavy leather mittens and drew a stone pot out of the flames. Cradling the pot in his arms against his apron, he walked back over. “This is the final step. I hope you’re pleased.”

  With the head of the lid propped up at a slight angle, Brenwar poured from the stone pot. Rerry and Samaz gathered around the coffin. Molten silver slid from the cauldron into the top seams of the lid, snaking through patterns as natural as nature itself. Every groove Brenwar had carved in the coffin lid came to life, swirling from top to bottom until every crevice filled.

  Sasha gasped. Her sons’ eyes misted up as they gazed at a perfect silver image of Bayzog. “He’s absolutely beautiful,” she said in awe.

  Ben’s tears ran freely now. There was not a better testament for Brenwar’s adoration for his friend Bayzog than this. The image in the coffin lid was so refined and realistic he blinked several times, wondering if it was real. Brenwar did this? Unbelievable.

  Rerry and Samaz shouldered up to Brenwar. “’Tis truly magnificent. Thank you so much, Brenwar,” Rerry said with his eyes aglow. “It makes me feel like he yet lives.”

  “He’ll always live in our hearts.” Samaz gave Brenwar a shoulder hug before easing away. “Mother, I don’t mean to sound impudent, but do you intend to bury him with the Elderwood Staff? It seems fitting.”

  “No, don�
��t be silly, Samaz. Mother can use it, certainly,” Rerry replied. “Mother, you must use it. We’ll need its power.”

  “The staff is elven craft and magic,” she said, shaking her head. “No, I’m not capable of controlling its power.” She walked over to Samaz and handed the staff to him. “This is your legacy, Samaz. You will need to learn how to master it. That’s all I can say.”

  Samaz ran his hands up and down the smooth wood of the staff. The gem mounted inside the carved wood at the top twinkled. “I have so very little elf in me. I’m not so certain even I can harness the power within, yet I feel its warmth between my fingers.”

  “You’ll do just fine, Samaz. Bayzog would be proud of both of you.”

  Scratching the back of his neck, Rerry said, “I wish I was a bigger part of his legacy. But I’m a swordsman. I always felt Father was a little disappointed in me and my craft.”

  Touching her son’s cheek, she said, “Never, Rerry. You have your father’s eyes and the feisty arrogance that dwelled deep within him. You are much more like your father than you think.”

  Brimming, Rerry said, “Yes, much more than Stone-face, for certain. I can live with that.”

  “Well, I suppose it’s time to begin the ceremony, now that the coffin is ready.” Sasha gave Brenwar a nod then shook her head. “Sorry, I don’t mean to sound hasty. I love Bayzog and miss him dearly, but I want to get after the monsters that did this to him. I hope you understand.”

  “Completely,” Brenwar said.

  “Yes, I want vengeance too, for him and for Dragon. Those titans must pay,” Ben said.

  With Sansla’s help, they’d been able to surmise that Tylabahn had taken over Gorlee.

  That was another problem in addition to the loss of Nath and Selene. They’d tried to find a trace of them through the Chamber of Murals, but they hadn’t had any fortune at all. Now, another search needed to begin. Chances were they’d have to go back to Narnum, and without a doubt, the titans would be ready.

  Ben mopped the sweat from his face. “I’d better get changed into something more appropriate.” He eyed Brenwar. “I suggest you do the same.”