The Serpent's Ring (Relics of Mysticus)

by H. B. Bolton

  “Do you have a better idea?”

  “Good point.”

  They flew ahead and hovered over a plateau of barren wasteland. An unrecognizable odor came from inside the cave. They touched ground, and a tremendous sound erupted.

  “What was that?” Evan questioned.

  “I don’t know,” said Claire. “I think it came from behind those boulders.”

  Suddenly, a man emerged, staggering toward them. “Run! The beast is coming!” he shouted and stumbled to the ground.

  “Claire, give me your hand. We need to fly out of here,” yelled Evan, but Claire was already too far away. She rushed to help the dark-haired man.

  “You have no time to help me! Quick, you must go inside the cave!” cried out the man.

  Claire paid no attention to the man’s words and stubbornly helped him to his feet. He limped and was obviously in pain. She allowed him to use her shoulder as a crutch and the two hobbled toward the cave.

  “Here you go,” said Claire, resting the man gently on the ground.

  “Thank you. You have saved me from that wretched creature,” said the man, gripping his hand around his knee.

  Evan continued to listen for the beast, but couldn’t hear anything. Nothing. Not even a gust of wind.

  “Whatever was following you seemed to have gone,” said Evan, approaching Claire and the injured man.

  “I would not be so foolish to believe Bergkonge has vanished. He will hunt until he finds what he is after,” said the man.

  “What is a Bergog or whatever?” Evan asked.

  “Bergkonge is the Mountain King. He enjoys enticing young women away from their path. He brings them to his mountain and they are never heard from again,” said the man.

  “How is he able to seduce women? I mean, I wouldn’t exactly follow a horrible monster up a mountain,” said Claire.

  The man grinned and said, “He does not look like a beast when he meets these women. It is said that he is extremely handsome. Besides, women are easily fooled.”

  “Not this woman. You have to be pretty slick to pull one over on me,” said Claire.

  Just then, a scuffling sound came from outside the cave. Claire jumped to her feet, and said, “Evan, I think the dragon is out there.”

  “But, Claire, it doesn’t sound like a dragon.”

  “Oh, and you know what a dragon sounds like?” scoffed Claire.

  Chapter Eleven

  BEST-KEPT SECRET

  “STOP! YOU ARE NO MATCH for Bergkonge,” said the man. “You need to stay inside the cave where you are safe. The dragon is far too large to enter this cave. His wing span alone is as wide as a ship.”

  “Well, if Bergkonge can change into a man, then obviously, he can enter this cave. We need to come up with a plan,” said Claire, trying to peer outside. “I don’t see anything out there.”

  “That is probably because there is nothing out there to worry about,” said the man. But instead of sounding weak and feeble, his voice was now smooth and cunning. “You were lured so easily into this cave.”

  Evan and Claire turned. Now, the man stood easily. His broad chest was heaving and his shoulders were high and square. His body was draped in a brown cape made from dried leaves. Evan reached for his sister and shuffled back. Strange; the man didn’t follow. Why was he standing there with that evil smile, licking his lips?

  Suddenly, his mouth stretched forward and his teeth grew longer. His arms shot out, and he lunged forward. With a horrendous snap, his body elongated. His head twisted and distorted and howled!

  “Come on, Claire. Move!” strained Evan, tugging on his sister’s shirt-sleeve.

  “Wha-what’s happening?” stammered Claire.

  “Let’s go!” snapped Evan.

  Without turning away from the horrific beast, they backed out of the cave. Bergkonge, now fully transformed, followed gleefully. The setting sun outside revealed the full terror of the creature.

  The skin on his underside was burnt orange, but as his scales wrapped around to his back, they became red as blood. A coal-black tail trailed back twenty-five feet or more. His wings were held tight to his body, but Evan had no doubt Bergkonge could fly fast and furious. Tufts of wiry hair were behind each ankle, under his chin, and curled around ears that angled back. And the worst part, his bones protruded out, stretching through his skin.

  Evan stood in front of Claire, preparing for action. But Bergkonge was too fast. With one swift movement, he knocked Evan aside. Claire stood alone, face to face with a very hungry-looking dragon.

  “Look out!” another man’s voice sounded from behind.

  Claire was pushed aside, just as Bergkonge pounced.

  A young man leapt between Claire and the fire-breathing monster. A strange growling sound came from the blond man’s throat. The dragon growled back. It actually sounded as if the two were communicating.

  Claire was still kneeling on the ground, spitting dirt, and wiping her face. The dragon’s attention shifted from Blondielocks back to Claire. Bergkonge growled louder and shuffled closer. Claire lifted her head and her eyes widened. She scooted away, but the dragon followed. And when he snarled, his forked tongue licked across his pointy teeth and smoke rings seethed from his nose.

  “Hold very still,” instructed Blondielocks. “Most likely, Bergkonge will not attack if you do not move.”

  “What do you mean most likely? I don’t like the sound of that,” said Claire.

  “Trust me. I will encourage Bergkonge to go back into the cave,” said Blondielocks.

  “Why should I trust you?” Claire asked, scooting away from Blondielocks. “I trusted Bergkonge and look where that got me.”

  “I am nothing like Bergkonge,” said Blondielocks.

  Evan froze. His sister was in serious trouble, and he had to formulate a plan. He raised his hand and levitated some rocks over the dragon’s head. They hovered momentarily and then with one swift motion of his fingers, Evan dropped the rocks. But as they made contact with the dragon’s scaly head, they just crumbled into dust. The impact was explosive, but Bergkonge barely flinched.

  “What am I supposed to do now?” yelled Evan. “This isn’t working!”

  “Encourage him to return to the cave,” instructed Blondielocks.

  “All right, if you insist, I’ll ‘encourage’ Bergkonge,” Evan said and focused on the ground. Pebbles started to vibrate and bounce. They sprung up higher and higher, until finally, they began to spiral and twist. Evan created a mini whirlwind, which sucked in more tiny particles of dirt and small stones. It expanded and grew larger and larger. Evan’s rock storm towered higher than the dragon. It circled around and around Bergkonge before darting right into his eyes! A thundering roar erupted, and Bergkonge staggered back toward the cave. Grains of dirt continued to pelt his face. He flailed from side to side while whimpering loudly. Evan wasn’t sure whether he should fear Bergkonge or feel sorry for him.

  When the dragon disappeared from view completely, Claire stretched her fingers outward. As she squeezed them into tight fists, the cave’s opening sealed shut, leaving just enough room for the dragon to breathe. Blondielocks watched from a few yards away, an expression of complete amazement on his face. Claire and Evan stumbled toward each other, checking themselves for any bodily damage as they moved.

  “Are you all right?” Evan asked. “I thought you were a goner.”

  “Me too,” said Claire, wiping a smudge off Evan’s shirt sleeve. “Thanks.”

  “It was nothing,” Evan said arrogantly and smiled. “Just don’t clean my shirt too much. I’d like to keep a few battle marks.”

  Blondielocks approached, and Evan noticed, for the first time, that he wore unusual clothes: brown loose-fitting pants with a long tunic, high brown boots, and a leather belt strapped around his waist. And worst of all, he had shoulder-length blond hair tied back with a leather strap—too Viking-like for Evan’s taste.

  “How did you do that?” Blondielocks asked; his sky-blue eyes
fixed on Claire.

  “Why do you want to know?” asked Claire.

  “You still do not trust me,” stated Blondielocks. “I suppose after your encounter with Bergkonge that would be understandable. In time, you will learn to trust me.”

  “Look, no offense, but we’re not spending any more time with you or anybody else we happen to meet,” said Claire.

  “You must be a goddess,” said Blondielocks. He approached Claire, staring at her with complete admiration.

  Claire giggled and looked down. “No, I’m not a goddess,” she responded while pushing a few strands of hair behind her ear.

  “Then who are you?” he asked.

  “I’m sorry, but I’m not going to tell you,” said Claire. “Evan, we really need to leave.”

  Evan rolled his eyes and interrupted, “My name is Evan, and this is my sister, Claire. We’re from Michigan.”

  “Michigan? It must be an enchanting realm,” said the man, still gazing at Claire. “I am Sigurd, an immortal human, but human nonetheless.”

  “You’re not related to Alamaz, are you?” asked Claire.

  Sigurd blanched with horror. “I should think not!”

  “What are you doing on this island? I sure do hope you don’t live here,” said Evan.

  “I have been tracking Bergkonge,” Sigurd responded.

  “What do you plan to do with him?” Claire asked, raising her head.

  “I plan to relocate him.”

  “So, you aren’t going to kill him?” Claire asked.

  “No. I will take him to an island far away, where he will not be able to hurt anyone again,” said Sigurd.

  “Where’s your SWAT team? Surely, you’re not planning to capture and move that dragon all by yourself,” said Evan.

  “I have captured many dragons,” said Sigurd.

  “How?” said Claire. “I mean, that must be very dangerous.”

  “Dragons tend to be extremely destructive and cannot be near villages. Up until a few years ago, they were everywhere. People were losing their homes, many lost their lives. I discovered quickly enough that I am quite good at tracking and trapping dragons.” Sigurd laughed. “The last one I hunted burned down half a town before I was able to subdue her. But that is another story.”

  “That sounds fascinating!” said Claire.

  Evan interjected, “Another time. Remember, Claire, we need to find Dunkle and Barfel.” Evan then reached for his sister and looked over at Sigurd. “Thanks for your help. Bye!”

  “Perhaps, I can help you. Who is this Dunkle?” Sigurd asked.

  “He and Barfel are imps,” informed Claire. “We were separated by a wall of vines and then these giant men took them.”

  “It would be far too dangerous for you to enter that fort alone. Please, let me come with you,” said Sigurd. “I would consider it an honor.”

  “If you insist, then of course you may join us,” blurted Claire, as her face turned pink. “To be honest, we have absolutely no idea what to do next.”

  “Claire, I thought you weren’t going to trust this guy,” said Evan.

  “Well, I don’t,” said Claire. “But, let’s face it, we need help.”

  “I am glad you accept my offer. And, my fair lady, I shall prove to you that I am someone you can trust.”

  “We’ll just have to see about that,” said Claire, almost flirtatiously.

  “I am looking forward to it,” said Sigurd, edging closer and closer to Claire.

  “What do you suggest we do?” Evan asked.

  “Although giants are large, their brains are small. We will be able to outsmart them,” said Sigurd. “First, we need to figure out the best way to travel through the labyrinth. It will be dark soon, and even in the daylight, it is extremely tricky,” said Sigurd, starring toward the maze of vines.

  “That’s not a problem,” said Claire. “Evan can fly us over it.”

  “You can fly, boy?” Sigurd turned to face Evan.

  “I’m not a boy. And yes, I can fly us down there. Problem solved,” stated Evan.

  “Both of you are truly astounding. After we find your imps, I would like to know more about your powers and how you came by them.”

  “Like I said, you’ll have to earn our trust first,” said Claire.

  “I shall do whatever it takes,” said Sigurd.

  “Is that so?” said Claire, her lashes fluttering a mile a minute.

  “Can we focus on saving the imps?” interrupted Evan.

  “Of course,” Sigurd said with a charming smile. “They are most likely in the tower.”

  “Wait a minute,” said Claire, revealing her golden necklace. Vor’s divining locket glowed, as if anxious to help. “We haven’t even tried to use this yet.”

  “Have you figured out how it works?” Evan asked. “I mean, Vor didn’t exactly give very detailed instructions.”

  “Is that a seer?” Sigurd asked.

  “Have you ever used one of these?” Claire questioned him.

  “No. They are very rare, but I have heard of their powers.”

  “Great! Maybe you can help me figure out how to make it work,” said Claire.

  “I can try, but I am not sure I will be of much help. Magical objects are not really my area of expertise.”

  “Oh, really? What is your area of expertise?” Claire asked, somewhat innocently, and then giggled.

  “Claire, focus,” interjected Evan.

  “Right,” she said, then opened the locket. She cupped it in her hands and inhaled. “Here goes nothing. Where are Dunkle and Barfel imprisoned?”

  Colors swirled on the glasslike surface—pinks, yellows, purples. The image was blurry, at first, but finally the imps came into view. They were bound and gagged with a ratty old cloth.

  “Oh, they look so sad,” said Claire.

  Evan chimed, “And can you imagine having that dirty sock looking thingy in your mouth? Yuck.”

  “The picture is changing,” said Sigurd, pointing his finger toward the locket.

  Suddenly, more of the room could be seen. The view pulled back farther and out an open window. The image panned up and down the tower before snapping back to Claire.

  “Whoa, that was intense,” said Evan, stepping away from the locket. “So, we’ll just have to zip to the tower and rescue them.”

  “It will not be as easy as that. Giants might not be very bright, but they are good hunters. They will most likely have set traps.” Sigurd paused, looking toward the rickety tower. “I will distract the giants. You two find the imps and bring them back here.”

  “Sigurd, what about you? Evan and I can’t leave you behind,” said Claire, sounding genuinely concerned.

  “I will be fine. Your brother can return for me after you are safe.”

  “You must be the bravest guy I’ve ever met,” said Claire with a sigh. She then placed her hand on Sigurd’s muscular arm. “I’ll go with you. I can distract giants too. Besides, it will be easier for Evan to return here with only two passengers. He would probably struggle with three.”

  “Hey, I would not,” shouted Evan, and Claire looked at him as if he were clueless.

  “Evan, trust me. It would be too much for you to carry three of us at the same time. After you drop the imps off here, you can return for us.”

  Evan sighed, “Fine. Let’s go.”

  “One more second,” Claire announced before kneeling to the ground. Using her hands, she molded an object. “Here,” she said while handing Evan a small dagger. “I can’t have my little brother go in there completely unarmed.”

  “Thanks,” said Evan, studying the sharp gray blade.

  “You molded a dagger from rock,” Sigurd marveled, his expression returning to complete adoration.

  “Something like that,” said Claire, looking down and playing with her hair. “I mean, I had to melt it down first. You know, to give it strength.”

  “Amazing,” Sigurd said with a gleam in his eyes.

  Chapter Twelve


  SNEAKER THIEF

  SUDDENLY, THERE WAS A TREMENDOUS growl. Sigurd pulled out his sword, and Claire jumped behind him with her hand clenched to her chest.

  “I’m hungry,” said Evan, feeling his cheeks burn red.

  “Here,” offered Sigurd, handing Evan something wrapped in brown cloth. Evan grabbed the rectangular-shaped object, and then Sigurd handed another bar to Claire. “You will also need to keep up your strength.”

  “Thanks!” she squealed. “I’m starving.”

  Feeling anticipation much like on the morning of his birthday, Evan unwrapped the strange fabric from around his treat. This was a true gift, and he appreciated it more than words could express. Inside was a handmade granola bar with bits of nuts, oats, and raisins. The first bite tasted like heaven, even if it was difficult to sink his teeth through and the texture was hard and dry. And although the inside of his mouth hurt and his gums were probably bleeding, he ate the entire bar, thankful to ease the turbulence in his rumbling stomach. At last bite, he was ready to rescue imps.

  Claire hadn’t eaten her bar yet, and Evan was feeling anxious. He opened his mouth to ask her to hurry up, but the sound that emerged from it was, “Arrrough-arf-arf, whooow. Bark-bark.”

  Not one single intelligible word came out. Evan clasps his hands over his mouth and looked at Sigurd.

  Sigurd laughed and smiled in his annoyingly charming way. “I am sorry, my friend. I had forgotten about the effect this Woofout Bar can have if you are not used to it.”

  “Woof-arf-uff,” said Evan, still struggling to speak like a human.

  Claire was quick to chime, “Wait a minute. So, if I eat this bar, then I will bark like a dog?”

  “I am afraid so. But the effect only lasts for a short while.”

  “Arf-arf! Rrrr-uff!” Evan was really frustrated, now.

  In between fits of laughter, Claire said, “I think, hee hee, he wants to know if his nose is going to stretch and ears grow long.”

  Evan tried to tell his sister just what he thought of her funny little comment, but all that came out was, “Whoo-hoo-woooh. Uff!”