by Teresa Grant
“You’re not going in alone. I won’t allow it!” Rylan demanded.
“I’m sorry father, but you can’t stop me,” Nat replied sadly. Turning to Branadon he bade him, “Take care of them all…”
And he was gone!
“He’s never done that before!” Branadon exclaimed to Rylan. “Now what do we do? We can’t attack without letting on about Silina, or alert the Dragons without losing The Scale.”
Rylan took a moment to think. “We wait… Send for Darion, we have to be ready… Either way, we have to be ready,” Rylan said absently as he marched off, playing scenario after scenario in his head, and not liking any of them.
Chapter 27
Inside the mountain Slater was hard at work building his army. As the night wore on, he was getting less and less choosey, and started pulling anything that reached out a hand to him out of the mire. The bridge to the rim allowed the other demons to help pull as well. There were thousands now.
Suddenly Gargle leaped from his side and ran happily down the bridge to a figure standing at the end, that Slater did not remember releasing. He was certainly not human, but neither did he look to be one of the previous occupants of The Scale.
Slater watched as the being reached out and patted Gargle like a faithful lap dog. How had he gotten there? How dare the Gargoyle switch allegiances so easily! None of the other demons even noticed the man.
“The Scales nor their contents hold sway over me,” Nat called to him reading his thoughts. “Only you and this Gargoyle were not created by it. Rhom’s blood flows in my veins, they cannot hurt me.”
“But I can,” Slater replied slyly, viciously hurling the small demon he just released down at Nat’s head.
Nat ducked as it sailed by, giving Slater the time he needed to reposition himself. He stood on the bridge blocking the newcomer from coming forward. He picked up a nearby boulder as if it were nothing and hurled that too. Quickly Nat reached up with his sword and the rock exploded into sparks as it fractured against his blade.
Nat knew he had to make his move quickly. Slater had been practicing magic much longer than he had, so Nat didn’t want to chance being over confidant. While the other demons held no fear for him, they would be deadly against the armies outside. Laying his sword on the rail beside him, to keep it within easy reach, Nat lifted both hands and reached towards the Scale. The mountain began to tremble like an earthquake.
Slater screamed and ran down the walkway towards him.
In the blink of an eye, with a mighty slap, The Scales were gone.
Slater dove for Nat’s blade and snatched it away before Nat could regain his bearings after his mighty spell.
“Where have you sent them?” Slater demanded hysterically, pointing the sword at Nathanial’s throat.
Like Rhom did before him, Slater assumed Nat had sent them to another dimension.
Nat clenched his fists and glared, but before he could say anything, the dragon hilt opened its eyes, and the sword came to life. The blade turned to fire and the tiny head turned to spit it at the demon holding its belly. The fire had little effect on Slater in his demon form but when the Dragon twisted its little head and bit into his arm it made him scream. An acrid grey smoke oozed from the wound and the Dragon twisted out of his grasp. It crawled up his arm and went for his throat. All around them, the demons didn’t know what to do to help.
They pushed past Nat and tried to pry the tiny monster from their master, but it only made Slater scream louder. His blood was flowing freely, not a healthy red, but a sickly mushroom brown.
As the Dragon bit and scratched and tore, Nat, to his horror, was sick right there in front of them all.
The only one who noticed was the Gargoyle. He nudged Nat from behind, crying above the turmoil, “Must leave! Must leave!”
“My blade, I can’t leave it!” Nat hollered, loyalty reigning out over fear and disgust.
All that was left of Slater was a jagged lump in a pool of slime. The tiny Dragon was trapped in the middle of it, spitting fire and trying to avoid the blows raining down upon it from the ring of demons.
Nat closed his eyes and concentrated on the tiny creature. Its fire solidified back into steel, as its body regained the shape of the sword.
One of the larger demons picked it up and hurled it at Nat in frustration.
As the blade pierced his leg he disappeared. What shocked Nat more than the pain in his leg upon appearing beside Branadon in the camp, was that the Gargoyle had transported with him. Nat hadn’t had time to think when he saw the blade flying towards him, and automatically sought out the place he felt safest… right beside Branadon. The Gargoyle, Nat reasoned, must belong to him, if his magic automatically pulled it with him without his conscious effort.
Shocked as Nat was, Branadon and his father were even more surprised. They were in the middle of briefing Duncan who had finally arrived with the other half of the army moments earlier.
They immediately dove for the Gargoyle, but the beast only sat there waiting beside Nat. It was much too strong for a few grown men to budge, and it looked quite comical as they unsuccessfully tried to wrestle it to the ground. They might as well have been attacking a rock.
“It’s okay!” Nat shouted, “He’s with me… I think,” he added quietly to himself.
“Branadon, Father, I’ve taken care of The Scale, the attack has begun!” Nat cried. “Send for the Dragons!”
There was no need. The Dragons were already flying in. They had seen the demons pouring out of the mountain from their camp. Rylan blessed their superior eyesight.
In all the confusion, no one noticed the blade protruding from Nat’s leg until he fell. Rylan dropped to his knee examining the wound. Branadon sent for Faradon. He was still the best field doctor in camp.
“What happened, Nat?” Rylan wanted to know as they waited, cradling his son’s head in his lap. “What about the Scale? Did you see it inside? Is all lost?”
Lying there, Nat opened his fists. He’d been clenching them not only against the pain, but also to hold onto his prize. There in the center of his palm was The Scale. It was about as large as a pebble. Reaching up he removed his crown, and as if all the pieces of the amulet were separate, he removed the egg.
Carefully, with shaking hands, he broke the egg open and placed the Scales inside. When he placed the severed halves together, they fused back into one with a tiny click. Cautiously he replaced the egg and Rylan helped him return the crown to his head.
Nat was growing weak from loss of blood, but he wasn’t afraid. He knew the blade could not fatally wound him. It would only come to life if Nat’s own life were in danger. Then he looked at the gargoyle sitting on guard, and just knew it would be the same. It would only attack those who threatened his life.
As Faradon arrived and started to dress the wound, Nat suddenly turned to Rylan, “Mother! She’s still on the…” But Nat passed out before he could finish the sentence, while Faradon carefully removed the blade.
Rylan jumped to his feet. “Branadon! Assemble thirty of your best men. Duncan get the army into position surrounding the mountain. Stay clear of the Dragons. You’re to kill anything that gets past them.”
Branadon set out immediately calling to arms everyone as he went and gathering the small force Rylan had demanded. When he came out of the tent, Branadon came to attention and asked, “Sire, what are your orders.” Branadon had passed from friend into warrior. The battle cries were ringing through the air all around them, it brought on a blood lust only combat could slake.
“Rescue mission!” Rylan called behind him as he ran for the mountain, calling instructions as they went.
Branadon easily kept pace. “Do you think we can reach them?” he hollered.
“We have to!” Rylan yelled back.
Already the mountain looked like the volcano was erupting.
Chapter 28
Luther made a quick surveillance of the small glade where they were hiding. When he returned, Sili
na was just gaining consciousness.
“Ah Lassie, welcome back to the livin. An how’s me best girl doin’ this fine night?” he asked her, as cheerful as if they were picnicking on a warm summer’s day.
“You look like I feel,” she growled at him.
“Flattery is it? Well at least yer shinny coating kept most a the dirt off ya,” he told her as he looked them both over. “Ak! But look what ya’ve done ta me favorite vest!” he scolded, feigning great sorrow as he lifted the tattered rag from the ground near Silina’s feet where it had dropped. “I ask ya a simple favor,” he said, shaking his head sadly. “And look what ya done!” he cried, putting the remnants over his shoulders as if he intended to wear it again.
Silina smiled at the sight, and closed her eyes again drifting into a light sleep.
Luther sat down beside her, and eventually started to doze off too, when suddenly he heard the roar of the Dragons. It reminded him of a night long, long ago when Elise set Darion free on that hillside he’d escaped on when they’d first met. He stood to see the pandemonium breaking loose over the main gates, and the Dragons diving over and over setting the mountainside alight.
“Silina me love,” he called as he shook Silina’s shoulders. “It’s time we skeedadled!”
“What? What’s wrong now?” Silina asked him as she struggled to her feet. More scales were missing since they’d left her prison, and Luther felt bad that his grand rescue hadn’t been easier on her.
“Come Lassie, it’s down we’ll be headin’. Quickly now, follow me!” he urged, beckoning for her to hurry.
Within moments the air was full of smoke. Demons were swarming the mountain crawling from every crack and crevice.
Luther grabbed a large stick as he shambled along, stopping to push Silina in front of him to watch her fragile back.
“Keep goin’ Lassie, if I stop, you keep on headin’ down, yer boun’ ta run inta friendlies eventually!” he hollered at her back, as they ran awkwardly on.
No sooner had he said it, than two demons dropped onto him from above, knocking him to the ground as he ran beneath a large tree. Silina didn’t notice he was down for several yards but shuffled her way back quickly when she did. She could see they had already broken his arm, but Luther was fighting on bravely.
“Run Lassie, I can handle these dandies!” he cried, as two more appeared behind him.
Silina’s blood boiled up. She severed the head of the one nearest and trampled the next, shrieking in rage at the injustice of it all, and everything she was had been put through. She crushed the bodies beneath her into pulp and went for the others.
By some miracle Darion had been pursuing the same demons when he had lost them in the trees. He gave up all hope of Silina being alive when he saw them swarming out of the mountain. There hadn’t been time to hear the news from Rylan. He couldn’t believe his ears when he heard what sounded to him like the most beautiful sound in the world.
In actuality, Silina was cursing a blue streak in her native tongue.
Luther was tying his arm to his side with the remnants of his tattered vest readying himself for more battle when Darion suddenly dropped from the sky.
“Silina!” Darion cried.
He tried to embrace her, but between her fury and her wounds she screeched at him and actually spit fire.
Rushing up, Luther intervened before it could get too ugly. “Thars no time for that now! Run Lassie, ya can melt yer lover later!” Luther pushed on Silina’s backside, and to Darion’s utter astonishment, she began to run… instead of killing the human as he had expected.
Hurt beyond words, Darion swallowed his pride and followed behind as Luther stumbled after her. Inside Elise tried to console him, “She’s in shock Darion, she didn’t mean it!”
The moon broke from the clouds, giving a little more light in which to see, “Gods Darion, look at the two of them!” Elise told him.
Only then did Darion notice the condition the two in front of him were really in. It started to sink in that this oaf that he barely tolerated had saved his beloved’s life.
Reaching out his neck, he plucked Luther off the ground by the back of his shirt and swung him onto his back. The jolt wrenched his arm painfully, but Luther had no time to scream as he held on for dear life with his other hand.
Silina looked behind and nodded approvingly. Her emotions still in turmoil, she knew Luther would never have made it all the way down on his own. She barely had the strength to make it herself. As they ran the Dragons could hear a great battle in front of them, blocking their retreat down from the mountain. Silina was just about at her limit and knew she would not make it if they had to detour around.
As they drew closer, they were relieved to see that Rylan was leading a small band of men with Branadon at his side towards them. They surrounded the three as they fought off demons as swarm after swarm descended.
Suddenly a group of Dragons came swooping in from above and cleared a pathway the rest of the way down. Darion lifted off and was proud to see Nat riding Mickael and Dryfus at the lead.
When the party on the ground had safely returned to camp, Darion landed near their makeshift hospital to deposit Luther and carefully attempt a hug for Silina. She would still not let him touch her but dragged herself raggedly to the side of the medical tent.
Mickael and Dryfus landed as well and offered to carry Nat back up again but Rylan ordered him to remain behind with the wounded. Although he tried valiantly to hide it, once on the ground, Nat’s leg could barely hold his weight. The gargoyle rushed forward from where he was patiently waiting and offered himself as something to lean against.
Branadon jumped onto Dryfus’s back, Rylan leapt to Darion’s, and they were off again.
All night long the battle raged, and the wounded poured in. Living in lava, the Dragon’s fire took many hits to affect the demons, and it would sometimes get out of control on the ground and cause more damage to the allies than the enemies.
It took the entire night, and all the next day, to finally destroy every last demon. Sedric’s initial camp had also been found and everything there eliminated as well.
The next day as they sat around a fire nursing their wounds and getting some nourishment, Nat explained what had happened to Sedric Slater.
Luther spat in the dust, and exclaimed, “Perfect ending fer the bastard!”
Darion, for once, agreed with him. He was taking his cues from Luther and trying to treat Silina as if she were fine and whole. Her temper was razor sharp, and unpredictable, but everyone did their best to keep her from getting riled. She seemed to calm instantly whenever Nat appeared.
In the days to follow, while everyone else tried not to mention her wings, Luther and Nat were the only ones able to discuss them with Silina and keep the wounds clean without her becoming hysterical. She still would not allow Darion to touch her. Luther was examining them closely for infection one morning, while Silina growled and grudgingly allowed his administrations. Faradon had given him a salve to rub into the spots where her scales were missing, and the wound on her back where they had amputated her wings.
“Little Nat, come an’ ave a look ere, couldn’t ya wave yer magic sword and make these little nubbies here grow?” Luther wondered.
Nat came over closer to have a look, explaining, “It doesn’t work that way Uncle.”
“Get off me, you great oaf! They didn’t leave anything to work with,” she argued sourly.
“Ya wound me ta the core Lassie. You ain’t the first pretty lady ta be callin’ me that.” For some reason Luther’s chiding always helped calm her. If anyone else tried to say such things, they were received with a puff of smoke and a swipe of her tail. “What’s this then Lassie, you sproutin’ horns ta go with that sassy mouth a yors?” Luther gently waggled the small protrusions on Silina’s back.
Silina whipped her head round trying to get a look.
Nat reached over and touched them too. “He’s right mother, they’re growing.”
“I ‘eard a some lizards that can do that. Pull off thar tails and they grow right back,” Luther informed them.
“Do you really think they could?” Silina asked jumping to her feet, she knocked Luther flying and he yelped as his arm bumped the ground.
“I do, mother. I can feel them,” Nat assured her.
Silina accidentally stepped on the ever-present Gargoyle, sinking him unhurt into the ground in her haste to leave.
They could hear her screaming out Darion’s name as she ran through the bushes, causing people to dive out of her way as she searched.
Chapter 29
On his way home to Neglavale, Nat assured his family he’d meet them there shortly. There was some unfinished business he had to attend to, and he rode Hektor away without any further explanations.
Walking through the woods where he was born, and spent his ‘short’ childhood, Nat felt a pang of regret that he did not take more time to enjoy his carefree youth. Well, maybe when he learned all there was to learn, he’d come back here and try it all again. Maybe he could coax Noni into becoming a young playmate that would be fun to spend some time with.
“Well, what are ya doin' back here?” Mollywog greeted him with a scowl, that she unsuccessfully tried to keep up as her face relaxed into a welcoming smile. “Thought you’d be a little too snooty and high an’ mighty ta bother with an old lady anymore. That family come to their senses and boot you out already for all yer misbehavin’?”
Trying to look hurt, Nat took the woman’s claw like hands in his and told her, “I gave you a promise, Noni Molly. I didn’t want you showing up on my doorstep to box my ears for not finishing the job I started. Where’s that hammer and paintbrush I left by the door?” he asked her, as if he’d find it off to the side somewhere waiting for him.
Together they walked into the tiny cabin and Mollywog put the kettle on for tea.