Heartgem Homestead (Sexcraft Chronicles Book 1)

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Heartgem Homestead (Sexcraft Chronicles Book 1) Page 24

by Edmund Hughes


  “It’s me!” hissed Zoria. “My spear was still unfinished. I… I didn’t realize it was so weak!”

  Vrodas let out a snarl of pain, and Hal heard something jump and land in the blackness behind him. His worst fears were being realized, and they hadn’t even reached the dragon. His friends would die. He would die, and he only had his own choices to blame.

  No! Nobody else dies!

  Hal pulled the heartgem loose from his shirt hard enough to put a rip in his collar. He squeezed the gem in his hand, bruising the center of his palm with the strength of his grip. He felt his mind focus completely on one thing and one thing only.

  And just like that, he felt the switch happen. He dropped his sword in a rush to pull his pistol from its holster, taking aim in the general direction of Vrodas’s shouts and hoping that his shot went true.

  A bolt of flame burst from the barrel as Hal channeled his ruby and used Flame Shot. The cave flickered with light as it soared through the air, striking one of the husks on top of Vrodas and knocking it back. The husk’s body caught fire, which cast enough light through the cave to illuminate the scene around them.

  There were hundreds of husks approaching them. Hal reached down to pick his sword back up, making sure to keep himself between the monsters and his friends. Vrodas was beating the remaining husk that had attacked him down with bare hands, but the bite wounds on his shoulder and neck looked like they were beginning to hamper him.

  Hal had discovered the secret to the heartgem, but it wouldn’t be enough. He couldn’t take on a small army of husks on his own. Zoria was making an attempt at lifting Vrodas’s two handed sword, but it dwarfed her with its size.

  The first few husks lunged at Hal. He swung his sword, slicing through the first one’s face. He kicked out at the next one, and tried to fend off the third with a quick, pointed jab. More of them were closing in, a swarm of gnashing teeth and hideous, long fingers.

  Hal gritted his teeth, cocking his pistol with one hand, channeling the heartgem without touching it. He summoned all the essence contained within it, desperate to do something, not knowing what.

  Emotions surged within Hal, anger, passion, lust, pride, all the different aspects of the ruby’s essence. He felt his vision cloud over, the darkly lit cave taking on a distinct, red hue. He was screaming, he realized, wordless noise escaping his throat with each exhalation.

  He saw Zoria watching him in the corner of his eye, her expression one of shock and disbelief. The heartgem was giving off its own light, surrounding him in a ruby red aura. He could feel power emanating from him, bleeding from his pores like sweat after hard exertion. It was a heady, fluttering feeling, almost as though he was drunk, or high off herbs.

  This… is a Ruby Trance.

  Hal didn’t have time to waste on considering what had happened. He cocked the hammer of his pistol, aimed, and fired just as a dozen husks ran at him in a death charge. The blast unleashed by Flame Shot was so much larger than it would have been normally that it reminded him of the war cannons used back in the Collected Provinces.

  The fire blast tore through ten or more of the husks, their bodies falling to the ground in flaming pieces, further illuminating the cave and filling the air with the smell of putrid burning flesh. Still, the remaining husks charged, undaunted by the destruction Hal had just wrought.

  Hal channeled his essence into a new spell, using the small flames on the dead husk’s bodies to create small explosions as the remaining monsters ran by. He fired his pistol again, this time using the spark to cast Flame Strike as he swung his sword at an oncoming husk. The blade held flame for longer than normal, and he struck again, cutting through the monsters with a sword of fire, the blade extending several feet past the metal tip of his weapon.

  And yet still, the odds were against him. Hal felt his physical strength waning even as he pulled from a seemingly limitless store of magical energy. How long had it been since he’d last slept? Since he’d last eaten? He cut through a husk, its body bursting into flames on contact with his Flame Sword. More of them closed on him. Hal snarled and fought on.

  The battle only drew to a close once every single one of the monsters had been immolated or decapitated. Hal fell to one knee as soon as he was out of danger, letting go of the powerful emotions of the Ruby Trance and returning to normal as he did. He was more exhausted than he’d ever been in his life.

  “Surfacer…” Zoria came up beside him, setting a hand on his shoulder. “My people call what you just experienced an Awakening.”

  “Awakening…” muttered Hal. “Cadrian told me it was called a Ruby Trance.”

  “Surface name,” said Zoria. “I’ve seen others enter the Awakened state before… but never like that. Never with that much power. The heartgem is a weapon worthy of its legend, truly…”

  Hal groaned. He glanced down at the heartgem, which had only the faintest glimmer of ruby essence left in it. He felt a sudden swell of confidence at what he’d just done. He could control it now, at least somewhat, turning it from sapphire, to ruby, and perhaps even to other varieties of gemstone, if he tried.

  And I can reach a Ruby Trance.

  It all meant the same thing. He could face the dragon now, and stand more of a chance than he’d ever dreamed of. A headache hit him along with the thought, as though his physical body was rebelling against his conclusion.

  “Vrodas!” said Hal, suddenly remembering the wounded ogre.

  He almost collapsed as he attempted to stand on shaky legs. The ogre looked as bad, if not worse. One of Vrodas’s upper arms hung uselessly at his side, and blood oozed from a shallow wound on his neck.

  “He can’t keep going,” said Zoria. “His wound will bleed the more he exerts himself.”

  “I… can manage,” muttered Vrodas.

  “No, you can’t,” said Hal. “You’re a liability. I won’t be able to protect you if you can’t fend for yourself. And that goes for you, too, Zoria.”

  The elf girl glared at him, genuine hate showing through in her expression.

  “You dare to question my fighting abilities?” she snapped.

  “Zoria,” said Hal. “If you can’t summon your spear, you aren’t coming with me. I won’t be able to defend both of us and be the one attacking. It’s too much to juggle at once.”

  She scowled and shook her head.

  “I owe Aangavar a debt of pain for the way he treated me,” she said.

  “And Theron!” shouted Vrodas. “My friend will not go unavenged.”

  “Enough,” said Hal. “This is the only chance we have right now. If I die, the two of you are more than welcome to make another attempt.”

  “Do you have a death wish, master?” asked Zoria. “Truly? And have you forgotten that you’re the only one who can take these off?”

  She held out her wrists, the command braces reflecting some of the orange light coming from the burning bodies of the defeated husks. Hal stared at them for a second, and then reached out and undid both clasps, feeling the magical bonds release as his fingers pulled at them.

  “You’ve done your part,” he said. “And I did say that I would free you, eventually.”

  Zoria gaped at him in disbelief. She rubbed the skin under where the bracers had covered, her eyes considering him.

  “Most elves would kill a former master after being released from slavery, regardless of the circumstances,” she said. “Especially if their former master was a surfacer.”

  “I trust you,” he said. “Though, I’m not really sure why, or if it’s a good idea. You might want to wait a while if you are planning on killing me, though. I think I’d get the better of you right now.”

  He grinned at her, and an odd gleam showed in Zoria’s eyes. She could only hold his gaze for a second before glancing away.

  “Will you help Vrodas back through the caves?” asked Hal. “There should be medical supplies at the homestead.”

  “I will,” said Zoria. “Assuming we can make it back through the fir
es,”

  “Here.” Hal picked up a loose piece of wood from underneath one of the husks bodies and used his pistol to turn it into a torch. “Be careful.”

  “You’re very brave, for one so young,” said Vrodas. “But don’t rely too much on courage. If you can’t win, at least survive to fight another day.”

  Vrodas reached one of his good arms out and clasped Hal’s hand.

  “I can win,” he said. “I know I can.”

  Zoria gave him one last, lingering look. She opened her mouth as though to wish him luck and then seemed to think better of it. Hal watched as she helped Vrodas back through the caves in the direction they’d come from, the torchlight slowly disappearing around a corner. Then, he set out on his own, pistol and sword in hand.

  CHAPTER 45

  They’d been closer to the far exit of the cave than Hal had realized. It only took him a couple of minutes to make the last stretch. The light pouring in from the hole leading outside was so bright that he had to close one eye and squint to keep going.

  He emerged high on the mountain’s slope, only a short distance from its peak. He saw signs of the dragon’s presence wherever he looked; claw marks, singed rock, rotting pieces of animal and scattered chunks of unidentifiable bones.

  The air was shockingly cold, and it blew solidly against him, making each step harder than it would have otherwise been. Hal was beyond exhausted, and knew that he was taking a fool’s risk in pushing himself too hard.

  I don’t care. This is what I wanted since that horrible night that started everything.

  The thought had a double meaning in his mind. He’d wanted the dragon dead, but even before that, a part of him had loathed being the only member of his family to survive the attack. Lilith, Mauve, his father, they’d all gone ahead of him. Was he there to kill the dragon? Or was he there to die a proud, pointless death?

  He didn’t have answers, only actions he could take. He walked slowly up a thin, ledge that cut back and forth up the last stretch of mountain. It felt like he was watching himself make the journey from afar, his body moving disassociated from his emotions and ego.

  At the end of the ledge, the path widened and steepened, forcing him to occasionally climb on all fours as he continued forward. Hal could hear the sound of deep, heavy breathing coming from further ahead.

  Hal stumbled as he finally reached the end of the final slope. Lichen covered the rocks atop the summit, and the wind threatened to toss him off balance. The dragon was there, and it was collapsed on its stomach at an odd angle, its wings drooping like the ears of an injured dog.

  Its scales lacked the vital, polished hue Hal remembered, most of them caked in dirt or blood. There was a pool of red extending out from underneath it, likely its own blood, drawn from the wounds Zoria had given it in the fight while defending Lorne.

  And, most importantly, it hadn’t noticed him yet. It looked only half aware of what was going on. Hal shivered from the cold mountain air as he took an unsteady step forward, his head feeling light and dizzy from the thin air. It had been over a day since he’d last slept, and between the burns across his shoulder, and the toll using his heartgem so liberally had taken, he barely managed to stay on his feet.

  He lifted his sword, preparing to charge the last stretch across the rock and deliver what he hoped would be the killing blow. The dragon seemed to sense his killing instinct, and lifted its head and long neck to look at him.

  Hal stared into the monster’s eyes, expecting to see evil, but only finding weariness, with a hint of surprise. It drew itself to full attention, pulling up from its stomach and standing with what was left of its pride.

  “You waste time, Heart Holder,” said the dragon. “Attempt what you’ve come to do.”

  Was this it? Hal had pictured this moment a dozen times over in his head, but it had always played out in grand, sweeping fashion, both he and his quarry diving eagerly into mortal combat. The real dragon in front of him looked like it was ready to go into the final sleep, and the last thing Hal felt like doing was swinging his sword.

  Lilith. Mauve. My father. Laurel, and the people in Lorne. It’s caused too much pain.

  Hal gritted his teeth and charged, his mind empty of thought. He crossed half the distance left between them before slipping on a spot of lichen and falling head over heels, only barely managing to keep his weapons in hand.

  The dragon let out what sounded like a cough, and then breathed fire. Hal fumbled to get his pistol aimed in time to cast Flame Shield, but he needn’t have bothered. The spurt of flame released from the dragon’s mouth went wildly off direction, spiraling up on the diagonal as though it lacked the breath needed to hold it straight.

  Hal saw the dragon as weak and helpless for about a second, and then its claw came down over him, shattering any illusions. He rolled out of the way in time to dodge it, but the force of the impact was a stern reminder that the battle was far from over.

  He rose to one knee and slashed at the dragon’s leg. His sword struck true, and the monster cried in pain. Hal pulled back to strike again, but the dragon lashed out with one of its wings, knocking him into the air and nearly off the summit.

  Hal expected the dragon to follow up on its advantage, but it didn’t. He took several vulnerable seconds for him to pull himself back to his feet. The back of his skull was bleeding, and he felt dizzy and sick. The dragon appeared to be waiting for him to advance.

  No… It isn’t waiting, is it?

  It was standing between him and something else. Hal had to squint to focus his eyes. There was a nest, made of supple young trees woven together, with a single, lonely egg lying in the center.

  The dragon noticed where Hal’s attention was and let out a furious roar. Hal took a step forward, intent on taking advantage of his enemy’s newfound weakness, if he could. He sprinted for the nest, suspecting that the dragon’s injury would make quick movements across the ground difficult.

  The dragon flapped its wings, and in a single, launching movement, it scooped Hal up and lifted him into the air. Hal screamed as all the terror from his first horrific flight came back to him.

  But this time, it was different. The dragon held one of his arms instead of his chest, and was unable to close its claw enough to do much to it. Hal made the mistake of looking down. They were already up a hundred feet over the summit, and who knew how many hundreds of feet above ground level.

  His heart was thumping out a terrified pace in his chest, but he forced himself to focus. With as much care as he could manage, Hal sheathed his sword, and then took his pistol from the arm the dragon held and put that in its holster, too.

  Holding me like this, it can drop me whenever it wants.

  That thought, combined with another glance down at the ground, almost made Hal throw up. The wind was intense, and his eyes watered from both the force of it as well as the biting cold. He reached one of his hands up, his entire body trembling, and grabbed higher up on the dragon’s leg.

  It let out a small, chastising roar. Hal ignored it, hanging on for dear life. He pulled himself upward with all his strength, managing to get a foot on top of one of the dragon’s claws as he pulled his captured arm free.

  There was suddenly nothing keeping him from falling to his death except for his own ability to cling to the monster. The dragon swooped from side to side, trying to fling Hal loose. He hung to its leg with more desperation than he’d ever felt, knowing that eventually, the monster would win.

  Without taking time to consider if it was feasible, Hal ran his hands over the scales on the side of the dragon’s body. It had scars from previous battles, places where chinks in the scales let his hands find purchase. He was trembling almost uncontrollably as he sunk his fingers into the first hold and pulled himself further along, far too terrified to even consider looking down.

  The dragon let out another halfhearted cough of protest, but it seemed too focused on putting its energy into flying to make another attempt at throwing him loose. Hal f
ound his next finger hold, and then a toehold, and then miraculously, he was on the monster’s back.

  It felt like he was hugging the dragon as he found the best position to ride, gripping the monster’s neck from behind. It roared again, but the sound of it was weak, even as Hal felt the vibrations of the sound surge directly into him.

  “Take me back down!” he shouted, unsure of whether it would hear him over the wind. “Now!”

  What could I possibly threaten this monster with? I might be riding it, but I’m still at its mercy.

  CHAPTER 46

  Hal looked down again, and his eyes widened. Krestia’s Cradle was an expense of varied terrain far beneath him. He could see the small spot of green between the mountains and north of the desert that was Fool’s Valley. He could see the fertile farmlands and larger cities of what he guessed to be the capital and other trading cities north of that, along with a massive central lake, and the eastern coast.

  The dragon was flying toward that coast, out over the ocean. It almost seemed to Hal as though it was trying to get as far away from its roost as it could. He felt helpless, but his emotion was kept in balance by the amazing, euphoric rush he felt from being on the dragon’s back.

  It was honestly like nothing he’d experienced before. He wasn’t in control of the monster, and he hated it for what it had done to his friends and family, but both of those facts were not enough to dowse the childlike excitement surging through him.

  The dragon flew on, and Hal kept his grip solidly around the creature’s neck. Minutes turned to hours. The dragon flew out over the ocean, continuing until land was no longer in sight. Then, it began to rise higher, and higher, until it was above the clouds.

  Hal expected the thick cloud cover to be the end of his amazing views, but in fact, it was just the beginning. He stared in disbelief at what he saw as the dragon broke through into the blue beyond.

  There was an island in the sky, floating on top of the clouds. Not an island, Hal realized. An entire province, at least. Unnatural clouds shrouded it around the edges and presumably underneath, for he’d not seen even a shadow of it on the way up.

 

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