Deadly: The Odyssey of Nath Dragon - Book 3 (The Lost Dragon Chronicles)

by Craig Halloran

  Heart racing, Maefon notched her first arrow from the black quiver. A red fire glowed inside the tip of the arrow. “You’re a real beauty, but what in the world do you do?” She peeked up over the wall and targeted the giant men wailing on Nath and Darkken down below. Taking aim, she drew the bowstring back across her cheek. “Only one way to find out, I suppose.”

  CHAPTER 66

  If it hadn’t been for the breastplate armor that Nath wore, his ribs would have shattered like glass. Reaver and Slaughter were beating him and Darkken senseless. Nath slammed to the ground. He got kicked in the ribs. Reaver ground the heel of his boot on Nath’s hand. His face was smashed hard into the dirt several times. The metallic taste of blood and dirt filled his mouth. He kicked, twisted, and squirmed only to have his head almost yanked off his shoulders by the hair. Any lesser man would have been dead by now.

  Darkken wasn’t faring much better. Slaughter had him in a one-arm headlock. He kneed Darkken repeatedly in the gut. The blows lifted Darkken off his feet. The giant man suddenly slapped Darkken on the back and hip-dropped him face-first into the ground. The ugly brother started laughing.

  Together, the sons of the giants left their prey and gave one another a high-handed slap. Reaver took after Darkken, and Slaughter went back after Nath. At the same time, they flopped to the ground, driving their big elbows into Nath’s and Darkken’s backs.

  Nath bellowed out a painful groan. The sound of his own voice startled him. He didn’t think he had enough strength left inside to make such a noise, but it all came gushing out. As Slaughter pushed off of him, he stuffed Nath’s face into the ground. It was clear that the brothers were just toying with them. They stood tall, pumping their arms and feeding the crowd. They flexed their brutish arms and monstrous shoulders. Nath pushed himself up to his hands and knees. Darkken did the same.

  Blood seeped from Darkken’s mouth. “This is not going very well, is it? And I’m bleeding. I don’t ever bleed.” He made his way to his knees and swayed. “Keep trying to find that weakness.”

  Panting, Nath said, “I swear I’ve hit them everywhere I can think of. Other than sticking a thumb in the eye, I don’t think they have one.” He combed his locks out of his eyes. “How does my hair look?”

  Darkken shrugged. “It’s as unrivaled as ever.”

  “Good.” Nath planted a hand on the ground. He pushed up to his feet. Looking side to side, he lost sight of Reaver only to see Slaughter move in behind Darkken and scoop the smaller man up in his arms. Suddenly, arms like powerful pythons wrapped around Nath’s body. Reaver lifted him up from behind, pinning his arms at his sides. Grunting, Reaver squeezed.

  “Huuuuurk!” Reaver blurted out.

  The breastplate armor was the only thing that saved Nath’s body from shattering like a nut. Still, pressure behind his back was building. Across from him, Slaughter was giving Darkken the same treatment. Darkken’s face started to purple like a plum.

  “Nath!” Darkken managed to say. “Given the finality of our dire circumstance, I have to tell you something.”

  “Now? What is it?”

  “I’ve been holding back. You see, I’m more than just a swordsman. I can control magic too.”

  Groaning, Nath said, “Any chance you can use some of that magic now?”

  Darkken gave a stiff nod. His dark eyes became angry cauldrons of molten copper. “Nath,” he said in a thunderous voice. “Duck!”

  Nath tucked his head as far into his chest as he could. Two fiery bolts shot out of Darkken’s eyes, striking Reaver in the face. The monster man’s grip loosened. Nath dropped to his feet and looked up. Reaver’s face was now a hollow, burning ring. He could see the tower in the background right through it. The gnolls and goblins shuffled back in awe-filled silence. Darkken’s burning eyes cooled.

  Slaughter, screamed. “Brother! Brother! You kill my brother! Now you die!” The enraged man cranked up the pressure on Darkken.

  Darkken let out a painful moan.

  A red missile streaked through the ledges hidden in the hillside. It buried itself inside Slaughter’s head. He dropped Darkken and teetered around, pawing at the shaft protruding from his skull.

  The wide-eyed hunters watched with fascination.

  As he tried to pull the arrow out of his ear, Slaughter’s head exploded with a muffled pooompfh. Like his brother, Slaughter still stood, headless and unmoving.

  All eyes drifted between Nath, Darkken, and the Merchant Queen. Her beautiful face filled with rage. Her eyes flashed like lightning. With a wave of her hand, Maefon sailed out of the hillside rocks. Her arms were flailing like a wounded bird. A quiver and bow fell from her hands. She dropped from the air onto the ground, landing hard in front of Darkken and Nath.

  Sigourney stood. She spread her fingers out and with a deep frown said, “Kneel.”

  Under a power that was not his own, Nath dropped to one knee. Darkken and Maefon did the same. Nath strained against the unseen forces that tangled his mind, but he could not resist the command.

  Toying with her medallion, Sigourney said, “This is how you repay my hospitality, by killing my guardians?”

  “We had a deal, Merchant Queen,” Darkken shouted back. “We beat your champions. You gave your word that you would free us. You don’t want word getting out that you broke with honor, do you?”

  “You cheated, Darkken. It was a matter of hand-to-hand combat and not outside interference,” she said.

  “You never said that!” Nath said. He was amazed that he could talk. “It was our people against yours!”

  “No, it was the pair of you against Reaver and Slaughter. This wretched elf woman intervened, hence breaking our agreement.” Sigourney paced the catwalk in front of the throne. “The sons of the giants were precious to me. I raised them since they were boys. Now you have killed them.”

  Slaughter fell into Reaver, and both men hit the ground with a thump.

  Darkken pleaded a new case to Sigourney. “You are the Merchant Queen. You know that all deals don’t always work out. You have to cut your losses and move on. We both lost today. Let’s have peace and go our separate ways. I swear on my life, we will never interfere with your affairs again.”

  Sigourney shot him a deadly look. “You speak as if you are someone with the power to negotiate. Let me assure you, Darkken. Your soothing words might carry weight with swooning women, but they have no sway here. Only I have power here. True power. And to make an example of you for all to see and to hear from one end of Nalzambor to the other, I’m going to have your heads removed with your own swords.” She grabbed Nath’s and Darkken’s sword belts and tossed them into the circle. “Gnolls, fill your hands with steel. In honor of Reaver and Slaughter, remove their heads from their shoulders!”

  CHAPTER 67

  Calypsa woke up clutching her stomach. Pain shot through her body. She could still feel Maefon’s black daggers of energy plunging into her body. Calypsa gasped for air. Her face was drenched with sweat. Her damp, matted hair clung over her eyes. An icy breeze tickled her neck. Where was she?

  Shaking, she wiped her sweaty, tangled locks out of her eyes and spit dirt out of her mouth. A stream of water flowed somewhere nearby. The soft sound of water trickled off the rocks. The moon hung in the sky above, a huge and massive orb. Maefon’s hateful face invaded her mind again. The woman had stabbed her over and over. She ran her hands over her body. The holes that had pierced her flesh were gone. She crawled over to a massive hole that had been dug in the ground. It was a grave, her grave. The dirt hole was mostly filled, but it looked as if someone had crawled out of it. Judging by the grime that covered her body, it was her. Somehow, she hadn’t died, but Rond was still lifeless.

  Tears flowed down Calypsa’s cheeks. She’d lost everything. For the first time in her life, she was scared. Maefon, the elves, and that awful two-headed vulture were true killers. They were an evil unlike anything she’d faced before.

  Rubbing her arms, she warmed herself and raised
up on her feet.

  I have to help Nath.

  Hugging her shoulders, she started the trip north.

  “Where do you think you are going, daughter?” The voice was soft, womanly, and carried like a warm and gentle wind.

  With the warmth touching her face like a morning kiss of the sun, Calypsa stopped in her tracks. “Mother.”

  A soft-white illumination glowed in the deeper woodland. It came right toward Calypsa. A woman who could be Calypsa’s sister came forward, bathed in glorious light. Her flowing hair was as green as maple leaves, and her long locks covered her splendid figure. Her skin was white as snow. An army of varmints strolled alongside and behind her. Her piercing brown eyes were full of ancient wisdom. She reached down and stroked Calypsa’s cheek. “I have missed you. You don’t heed my calls.”

  Calypsa’s mother’s touch took all the shivers from her body. The radiant woman was pure warmth and brought a natural energy. She was the Mother Queen of the dryads, a goddess among nature’s creatures and her kind. To the world of the races, she was known as Yasmela.

  “Mother, I am not ready to give up my life to the woodland. I have friends that I care for. They need me.”

  “Like that bugbear who lies in the ground.” Yasmela kept a warming smile. “You need to embrace your destiny and remain by my side. My throne is yours to have, yet you avoid it. I don’t understand that, but it must come from that unruly man in you.”

  “I like being who I am, and I’d like it even better if I knew who my father was, so I could thank him.”

  Yasmela’s smile faded. “Don’t say such a foolish thing, daughter. And I am the one that you should be thanking. You were dead and buried. I brought you to life again.” She pointed at the dirt hole. “Or would you rather be back inside that grave with a stinking and rotting bugbear?”

  “Don’t say that about Rond. He was a friend, and I cared for him.”

  “And you got him killed, did you not?”

  Calypsa sobbed.

  Yasmela put her arms around her and warmly said, “Daughter, I have told you about this deranged world of the races. All they bring is devastation, pain, and suffering. Embrace what you are destined to be, the Queen Mother of the Dryads. Care for your people.” She glanced down at the critters. “These innocent ones. Stop wrestling with that beast inside of you, and be one of us. I cherish you, daughter.” She stroked Calypsa’s hair. “I miss you by my side.”

  “I miss you too.” Shuddering in her mother’s arms, she let out a long cry. She couldn’t stop thinking about Nath. He didn’t have anybody, and he needed her. “I have to help my friend. He would do the same for me.”

  “Daughter, you need to cut your losses. You need to be with me.” Yasmela broke off her embrace but firmly held her daughter’s wrists. “The world of the races continues to do the same thing, over and again. Believe me, I’ve been watching for centuries. No matter what you do, nothing will ever change. Be neutral, and care for your own. It is the way of the dryad.” She looked at Calypsa dead on. “Now I’ve given you life, not once but twice. Don’t waste it, Calypsa. We are part of Nalzambor, thriving from its grand eternal power, but if we drift away, we will lose our magic. You don’t want that to happen, do you?”

  Calypsa shook her head.

  “Good girl.” Yasmela kissed her forehead. “So, you will come with me?”

  Calypsa nodded. She didn’t want to abandon Nath, but her mother’s words were so powerful and convincing. Nath would have to figure it out on his own. Finding a little spark inside her, she said to her mother, “On one condition.”

  “Oh?”

  “I want Rond back.”

  “He’s in a very deteriorated condition, but I’ll see what I can do.” Yasmela put her arm over her daughter’s shoulder and marched her toward the forest. “Or perhaps, we’ll see what you can do. I think you are ready for the next step in your learning.”

  CHAPTER 68

  Inside the ring of the poachers’ fort courtyard, the gnolls started a shoving match with one another. They were fighting over who got to chop off Nath and Darkken’s heads.

  Meanwhile, Nath continued to fight against the unseen force that controlled his body. It was as if Sigourney was inside his head, controlling his will and every move. The more he fought it, the more he sweated.

  Beside him, Darkken’s sweat dripped off his chin. The veins inside his neck rose. The man’s cool composure was gone. An anger stirred.

  “Can’t you use your magic again?” Nath whispered.

  “I can barely remember my name at the moment.” Darkken squeezed his eyes shut. “This power she controls, I can’t get a handle on it. It’s not like anything I’ve encountered before.”

  Nath understood that Darkken was a seasoned adventurer, but the way he spoke about his current situation seemed to suggest more. The fact that Darkken wielded magic was another mystery. “I just wish you would have used magic earlier. Why didn’t you tell me about it?”

  “I hate to rely on it, and in truth, I didn’t want to tip the Caligin off.” Darkken shot a look at the elves standing on the catwalks with Sigourney. “Now our enemies prepare for it. Maefon, do you have anything?”

  Nath was on Darkken’s left and Maefon on the right. Her damp blond locks clung to her perspiring face. She shook her head. “I can hardly think myself. I’m sorry… I failed.”

  Sigourney held the medallion in her hand like a precious little pet. She shouted down at the gnolls, pointing at the two who currently had the sword scabbards in their clawed hands. “You and you! Take the swords, and be done with this. The rest of you back off! I have deals to make and dragons to sell. Get on with it!”

  The gnolls holding the belts shoved the others back. One of them was the one that had lost his hand to the dragon’s bite. He ripped out Darkken’s sword, Scalpel. The elven steel shined against the sun. The gnoll squinted. The second gnoll had more of a wolfish face with dark fur covering it. He pulled Fang out of the sheath and held the blade high with two hands. The army of hunters broke out in more wild cheers.

  Sigourney shouted, “Silence!” The hunters and poachers went quiet. With a pulling gesture of her hand, Nath and Darkken slid over the dirt, scraping their knees. “Bow your heads. It will be easier to remove them that way.”

  Nath felt a powerful grip pushing his head down. He pushed back against the monstrous force. He was nothing but a child compared to the awesome power.

  In the same predicament, Darkken’s body heaved backward, but he didn’t have the strength to withstand the unseen power. His head was shoved forward, forcing his chin to his chest. Angrily, he muttered under his breath, “No woman can wield such power!”

  Maefon pleaded to Darkken, “I’m sorry. This is my fault. All mine.”

  “No, it’s not your fault,” Darkken admitted. “It was my overconfidence.”

  They seemed to be talking about something else that Nath didn’t follow. Still, he tried to steal a glance at the gnoll holding his sword like he owned it. All he could see was the gnoll’s hard waistline. The sword flashed across the gnoll’s feet. Nath couldn’t stand the thought of losing the sword given to him by his father to a gnoll. All he had tried to do was the right thing. The gnoll flashed the blade back and forth and made some long arching slashes. Nath said, “Fang, I’m sorry. All I ask is that you free that dragon and my friends if you can. Don’t worry about me. Just take care of them first.”

  “Any last words?” Sigourney asked.

  “No, don’t do this!” Maefon cried out.

  “I wasn’t talking to you,” Sigourney replied. “Since you have nothing left to say, hunters, finish it. Start with the younger one first.”

  The gnoll with Fang stepped to Nath’s side. The one-handed gnoll moved to the right of Darkken. The gnoll with Fang stuck it in the ground, tip first, spat on its hands, and rubbed them together.

  Sobbing, Maefon said, “I will avenge you, Darkken. And you, Nath, I swear it!”

  The gnoll pu
lled Fang out of the ground. The perfect blade was lifted out of Nath’s field of sight. “I can’t believe I’m going to die from the strike of a blade my father gifted to me. Darkken, Maefon, I guess this is goodbye.”

  Trembling from head to toe, Darkken said, “It can’t be.”

  “Oh, it is,” Sigourney said with a humorless chuckle. “It certainly is. What are you waiting for, gnoll? Finish him.”

  Nath squeezed his eyes shut.

  Maefon gasped.

  Darkken screamed, “Noooooo!”

  As he fought with everything in him to move, the hairs on Nath’s arms stiffened. The air shimmered. A loud awe-filled gasp came from the surrounding throng. A hot light, like the warmth of a fireplace, massaged Nath’s neck. The gnoll standing over him let out a painful howl. The smell of burning hair and flesh wafted into Nath’s flaring nostrils. Opening his eyes, he witnessed the gnoll’s body turning into black char with glowing orange veins cracking out of the seams.

  “What trickery is this?” Sigourney shouted. “How dare you?”

  With his limbs still locked up, Nath watched the gnoll’s body fleck away. Fang fell along with the ashes. The blade hit the hard ground.

  Ting!

  A sonic wave of energy blew into everyone and everything surrounding Fang. Nath was knocked aside into Darkken. His limbs were free. He sprang to his feet. Darkken rolled across the ground with the one-handed gnoll, fighting for his sword. The surrounding mob lay on the ground. Many held their heads. Others slowly came to their feet. On the catwalk, Sigourney sagged in her throne, rubbing her temples. Eyes sweeping the grounds, Nath searched for Fang. The sword lay where it had fallen, several feet away. He dove for it. The sword shot out from underneath his grasping fingers. It sailed up to the catwalk straight as an arrow and embedded itself in the fort’s wood.