by Andy Remic
Narnok shrugged.
Dek grinned, a tight-lipped grin containing very little humour.
And then, in one titanic mass of stones and beams and dust, with a sound that blocked out the rage of the storm, the rage of the dragon, the very foundations bowed outwards, cracking, the final supporting beams split, and the tower…
…collapsed.
Underworld
Beetrax crouched by the stairwell, and glanced over his shoulder. In one hand he carried a flaming brand, in the other his battered and chipped axe. He scratched his beard with the head of the axe, and scowled as Lillith approached, her face almost serene.
“This must be it,” she said, gently, reverently, and her eyes lifted and she surveyed the vast cavern above them. The ceiling was a dome, perfectly symmetrical and formed from some dark rock, possibly obsidian. It was polished. Smooth. Perfect… too perfect. “Look at this place… not once have we seen such a perfection of engineering from the dwarves!”
“So… we’re arrived at Wyrmblood?” queried Dake. “The City of the Dragons?”
Lillith nodded. Her face was flushed, lips red, excitement quite obviously her mistress.
“So, what now?” asked Dake, uneasily.
“We enter.”
“Down there?” He gestured to the dark portal, a circular opening in the very ground rock itself.
Lillith nodded, and turned, placing her hand on his shoulder. “Trust me, Dakerath. This is our destiny. Without our intervention, the dragons will return. Without our help, the world will soon be a place of scorched rock, barrenness and genocide. They will exterminate us. They will enslave us. They seek to re-establish the Blood Dragon Empire.”
Dake nodded, and looked to the others. Faces were pale and gaunt, eyes just a little haunted. These were people who needed to see the sunlight again. And yet, there was strength there, and a determination to do what was right.
“Well fuck it, we’re going in,” growled Beetrax. “You want me to lead the way, my beautiful lady?”
“Yes,” she smiled, moving up close behind him, and slipping her hands around his waist. She moved closer to his ear. “I love you, Trax,” she said, and placed her head against his back. “Until the stars go out.”
“I know, flower. I know.”
It had taken them perhaps a day to find this relatively new part of the mine, and in the end it was only Beetrax and Dake beating the living shit out of a captured dwarf guard engineer that allowed them to find the place. They’d taken the dwarf prisoner, travelling with him for half a day before they found a series of cells, and were able to lock the battered specimen behind thick iron bars, and throw away the key.
“By rights I should cut out his tongue,” said Beetrax, as he stood, glowering at the dwarf. “Then he can’t talk.” But as ever, Lillith’s calm and moderation brought Beetrax back from the brink of violence.
“It’s not the moral thing to do,” she said.
“This bastard would kill us at the first opportunity,” snarled Beetrax.
“And that’s what makes us different from them. We will show humanity, and dignity, and fair play. No murder. No longer, Trax. I forbid it.”
And now they stood by the spiral steps which fell away and down, through the centre of the hall’s floor. They were dark steps, dropping away in a wide circle, and Beetrax stepped down, boot clunking, and glanced back.
Lillith nodded.
Beetrax moved down the steps, and they dropped down into darkness which, as they descended, gradually brightened, allowing Beetrax to blink, and see. He licked his lips. Beetrax reached the foot of the steps and halted, tossing aside the fire-brand he carried. It was no longer necessary. This place, this underground world, was lit by a soft golden light. It was the place from the vision which Lillith had showed them, a massive city of buildings, pyramids, towers, bridges, arches, sculptures, all intricate and rich beyond any thief’s dreams.
Beetrax walked forward, axe coming to rest over his shoulder, as his head turned left and right, eyes wide, surveying the precious metals in such massive abundance. It was a paradise of wealth, greater than any mortal had ever witnessed.
The others had come down behind him.
“I think I’m going gold-blind,” smiled Dake.
“There is more wealth than any man could ever spend in a million lifetimes,” said Talon, instinctively stringing his bow and checking his quiver.
“Wow,” said Jael, eyes wide, innocent face round and open with awe. “I have never seen anything like it!”
“And you never will again, lad,” smiled Dake, and placed his hand on the young’s lad’s shoulder. “This is something men only ever dream about. A place of incredible richness, and a place of dreams. We’re not dreaming, are we, Sakora?”
Sakora smiled, her scars stretching. “No, Dake. Unless you want me to pinch you, see if you wake up?” She ran her hand down her baldric of knives, hidden beneath her shirt. They gave her a little comfort.
“I can pinch myself,” he said, watching her movements. They made him shiver.
They gazed across hazy squares, and witnessed the molten platinum river which they’d seen in their spirit flight; in the dream-scene of Equiem magick. And each and every person felt a unique awe. Like he, or she, stood on the raw bedrock of a million-year history, and were intruding on a culture they would never be able to comprehend.
Lillith led the way now, and her walk was fast. They all followed, eyes scanning for possible enemies, twitchy, nervous, but at the same time drifting as if through a dream of smoke and oil.
They passed a huge palace, impossibly ornate, with a huge iron door ten times the size of a normal human door, the exterior surface encrusted with a myriad of precious gems. Beetrax moved over to the door, looking suspiciously about, and after peering inside to see if there were any potential enemies there, but finding only a vast hall surrounded by unlit braziers and intricately carved silver statues, so he returned to the gems, pulled out his dagger, and started working the point behind a ruby half the size of his fist. He finally prized it free of the iron supporting claws, and it sat there in his hand, like solid, glittering blood. It sparkled from the warm light of Wyrmblood. It shone ruby light into Beetrax’s awestruck face.
“We are going to be so incredibly fucking rich,” choked Beetrax, happily.
“The only problem we’ve got, as far as I can see,” muttered Talon, eyes scanning, mind calculating, “is how we carry as much as possible out of this place.”
Beetrax considered it.
“Some kind of winch and pulley system? We could hire a hundred horses. Five hundred horses, with baskets. Rig up a big pulley system, haul as much shit out of this place as is humanly possible.”
“You think the dwarves will let us do that?” said Talon, with a wry, sideways smile.
“I’ll fucking die trying,” rumbled Beetrax, and slapped Talon on the back.
“Come on, we need to keep moving.” Lillith had stopped, sandals flat against the golden cobbles of the road. Talon and Beetrax exchanged glances, then watched as Lillith trotted off, with Jael close behind.
“Er. Your woman seems a bit keen,” said Talon, frowning.
“Yeah, I know. Probably just a little over-excited.” He nodded knowingly.
Dake moved to them, and glanced after Lillith. “Anybody fancy telling her we need to take it a little easy? We have no idea what’s down here. There could even be dragons.”
“Ha!” scoffed Beetrax, but then thought about it for a moment. He remembered that huge, black-scaled bitch ripping the roof off the Iron Palace. It had been a truly terrifying sight. How could a mere mortal take on something like that?
Beetrax looked up at the huge door. It was a dragon-sized door.
Ahh, he thought. Ahh. Shit. Is that how it is?
“I think we should maybe catch up with Lillith. Find out what the hell is going on.”
“Good idea,” muttered Dake.
They jogged down the golden cobbles, b
oots slapping.
“Lillith?” called Beetrax. “Hey, Lil, wait!” But she did not halt, and continued her fast pace, Jael still in tow.
Frowning, Beetrax put his head down and sprinted forward, leaping in front of Lillith, arms wide, head tilted to one side, face riddled with confusion.
Lillith came up smart, and her head lifted, and her eyes were narrowed, dark, her face not a happy sight to behold.
“We need to get there,” she hissed. “Get out of my way.”
“Whoa girl, whoa! What’s got into you?”
“You can’t see it, can you? Any of you? We have to get down there, we have to get to the dragon eggs, stop them hatching, stop them growing, stop them taking over the world! They will establish a new Blood Dragon Empire, and we will all be lost, destroyed, turned to ash in the ensuing onslaught!”
“One step at a time,” said Beetrax, kindly, slowly, placing a hand on her shoulder.
Lillith slapped his hand away with incredible force. “Get off me!” she shrieked. “You may not understand the importance of this quest, but I do.”
“So do I,” said Jael, lifting his head.
Slowly, Beetrax turned and looked at the youth. “I’d shut your fucking mouth, if I was you,” he snapped.
“Or what?” said Jael. “I watch you, bullying Lillith, ordering her about, moaning at her all the time. The big bad axeman. Oooh. Scary. You’ve made your judgements about me, the kid, the coward, and I’ve come to make my judgements about you. I once looked up to you, Beetrax. I thought you were a hero, just like in the story books. Like they taught us in school. But I see something different, here, in reality, in the flesh. I see a thief, and I see a murderer.”
“Oh you do, do you?” growled Beetrax, eyes glinting.
“I’ve watched you kill a hundred dwarves now. I’ve seen you strike them down, even when unarmed, even when trying to surrender. That’s murder, Beetrax. Or, as you would curse, fucking murder. And back then, you took the ruby from the big palace door. That’s the work of a thief. A dirty, scumbag, shit-swigging, low-down thief.”
Beetrax surged forward, but both Dake and Talon were there, each grabbing a shoulder as they tried to drag the big man back. Their boots skidded along the cobbles as they failed, and that big axe came up, notched blades glinting in the warm light, and Beetrax’s face was contorted in rage as…
Lillith stepped before Jael.
“No,” she said.
“Get the fuck out of the way, woman!”
“You forget to whom you speak.”
“You, Lillith, my woman, my lover. But I’m not taking these insults from this…” he eyed the suddenly pale figure of Jael, cowering back, “from this yellow streak of pig-shit. I’m going to teach him a fucking lesson.”
“No, you’re not.”
“Yes, I am.”
“No,” she held up her hand, and placed it flat against his chest.
Beetrax growled, and dropped his axe with a clatter. “I won’t kill him. All right? But he will feel the taste of my knuckles.”
“One last time, Trax. No.”
Beetrax looked at Lillith, really looked at her this time. Her eyes had gone dark, and he couldn’t swear it, but they seemed to swirl with a black smoke, half-seen, tiny fluttering motes, like the image of a half-remembered dream reflected in the eyes of a dead lover.
Beetrax pushed forward, scowling.
The next thing he remembered, he could taste metal, hot tin, his head was pounding, and he was thirty feet away from Lillith, face-down on the cobbles. He groaned, and the others ran over to him, rolling him onto his back, then staring back at Lillith with wide eyes.
She turned, and started forward, Jael by her side, a faithful puppy.
“What… what the fuck hit me?” groaned Beetrax.
“I think you pushed Lillith too far, old horse,” chuckled Talon, but it was a sombre chuckle designed to cover his shock.
“Or the other way round,” Beetrax growled, and hoisted himself to his knees, then his feet. He swayed for a moment, and looked at her retreating back. “She used…” he savoured the words, like he would a mouthful of rotten fruit, “fucking magick against me.”
“You were threatening the lad, to be fair,” pointed out Dake. Beetrax turned on him, and Dake took a step back, lifting his hands. “Whoa, mate, I’m not the one insulting you, and I ain’t the one who’s just flung you thirty feet across the street. Maybe you need to go talk to her?”
“I fucking will,” he growled, and ran forward, scooping up his axe, and pounding down the cobbles.
Sakora looked at Talon and Dake. She ran a hand down her face, almost as if to cover her scars. It had become a self-conscious action, but nobody had the heart to point it out. After all, who could blame her? Vanity was intrinsic to the human condition. It was part of the shell, the mask, the psychological barrier which stopped one crumbling like a salt pillar against the onslaught of the ocean.
“I think we’re in trouble,” said Sakora, gently.
“Why’s that?” said Talon.
“Lillith has changed. Since we came down here. She’s changed, Tal.”
“In what way?”
“I don’t know. I think it’s this place. Some kind of ancient magick, an influence of the dragons maybe; the influence of Equiem magick. Listen. We need to go after Trax. We need to sort this shit out.”
* * *
As they arrived, Beetrax had once more halted Lillith’s progress. They were at a crossroads, and a gentle hum filled the air. Sakora looked around, because everything felt odd. Something bigger was going down. The world felt suddenly wrong.
She moved forward, could see Beetrax talking heatedly, and she turned and looked at Lillith’s face. The white witch, the woman Sakora had known for twenty years or more, wore an expression that looked… alien.
“What do you think you’re doing?” snarled Beetrax. “Using fucking Equiem magick on me? Are you sick?”
“You know nothing of which you speak,” said Lillith calmly, voice cold, her eyes fixed on Beetrax without blinking. “Now get out of my way, before I do it again. Only next time, you won’t wake up for a fucking week.”
Beetrax stared at Lillith, mouth flapping. He absolutely could not believe what he was hearing.
“Lillith,” he managed, finally, as Dake and Talon stood by, helpless, wondering what the hell they should do; does one intervene in a lovers’ tiff? In their experience, only one person ended up in the shit, and that was the one sticking their bloody nose in in the first place! And so they watched, and listened, and readied themselves to jump in the middle if any problems occurred…
“Lillith. My life. My love. What in the name of the Seven Sisters are you doing?”
“I am following my destiny.”
“Which is what?”
Lillith stared long and hard at Beetrax. “Have you listened to nothing I’ve ever told you? Have you not realised my path? Yes, we have shared time together, Beetrax, and I have tried to instil in you my love, and faith, my belief in peace and calm… but here, and now, this is not a place for peace and calm. It is a time for action, for doing, because if we do not, then the world will be a very different place. Can you not comprehend the import of why we are here? Why destiny led us here? We have a mission to perform, Beetrax, and although I love you to the core, although I love you to the grave, you will get out of my way within three seconds or I’ll hurt you so bad you won’t walk for a fucking month.”
Sakora stepped between them. She’d been approaching, quiet, stealthy, as Lillith ranted. Now, she stood between them, her back to Beetrax, dwarfed by the huge axeman, her scarred and battered face focussed on Lillith.
“This is not you,” she said.
Lillith stared at her, dark eyes narrowed.
“Get out of the way, bitch.”
“Lillith would never speak like that.”
Lillith cackled, then, and tilted her head. “Of course I would. It only depends on a certain set of circums
tances. It depends on one realising one’s own potential, one’s own reality, one’s own purpose in life.”
“What is your purpose in life, Lillith?”
“We need to reach the dragon eggs.”
“Why?”
“To stop them hatching.”
“You are sure of this?”
“Yes.”
Sakora suddenly struck out, slapping a stinging blow that spun Lillith around, and dropped her to her knees.
“No!” choked Beetrax in anguish, but Sakora turned, and this time placed her own hand against Beetrax’s chest. Then, still holding that position, she turned, and frowned, and watched as Lillith looked up.
The white witch seemed different, somehow. Her eyes were no longer as dark. No longer tainted with smoke flecks. She reached up, and touched her own stinging cheek, feeling the handprint there, for Sakora did not pull her punches.
“How you feeling, Lil?”
Lillith tilted her head. She coughed, and climbed to her feet. Then, as Sakora stepped out of the way, she ran to Beetrax and threw herself into his arms. He stood there, like a useless bear, and Lillith’s tears stained his shirt and he looked over her shoulder at Sakora.
What? he mouthed.
What the fuck is going on?
Then Lillith looked up. And Beetrax looked down. And Lillith smiled. And Beetrax smiled. And he knew everything was going to be good with the world. Again.
“Forgive me?” she said.
“What happened?” he said.
“It’s this… place. It gets into your blood. It oozes… magick. White magick, but also… the dark arts. Equiem magick. The spells are here, in the air, in the gold, flowing with the platinum river. This place is old, Beetrax. Older than anything I’ve ever experienced. Forget the Harborym Dwarves; forget the Church of Hate and the Scriptures of Hate. Those things are parasites riding on the flesh of a million-year-old empire.”
Everybody present was chilled by her words. For she spoke the truth; the truth, which bled from rock and gold and bones and dust.
“The Blood Dragon Empire,” she said, and pushed her head into Beetrax’s chest.