Dragonvein Book Five

by Brian D. Anderson

  The island was moving at a surprising speed – much faster than any sailing vessel could match. Large swaths of the beech trees were already beginning to fall away, revealing the gleaming metal beneath. David tried to picture what it would look like if completely exposed. More than ever he felt determined that Shinzan must be defeated. Such a magnificent creation should never be destroyed.

  “Your ancestors sure knew how to build things to last,” he remarked as they made their way back inside.

  Hanvir nodded. “Yes. And now that you are here, perhaps we can make their creations live again.”

  “That could take a very long time, I’m afraid.”

  “Then let us hope we will have it in abundance.” Hanvir paused at the entrance and shut his eyes, allowing the breeze to wash over him. “And to that end we must now decide how best to use this new-found power.”

  David felt a sudden surge of protectiveness. He hadn’t given any thought to Borgen’s future use. The idea that it could now be exposed to possible capture – or far worse, destruction – was unbearable. Still, he knew he must steel himself to set such feelings aside. The enemy had to be put down. Even at the cost of Borgen.

  “I wonder if this is what Oppenheimer felt like,” he muttered.

  “Who?”

  David forced a smile. “No one. You’re right. We need to help win the fight if we can.”

  “I will contact King Ganix,” Hanvir told him. “He’ll know how best to proceed.”

  He looked to the bottom of the stairs where a small gathering of apprehensive looking dwarves was awaiting their return. “But first, I must ease the minds of the people here.”

  Chapter Eight

  Ethan looked down at the sleeping form of the woman he loved. The tiny contented smile on her face was making what he had to do even more difficult than he’d imagined. The sweet scent of her perfume filled his nostrils, taking him back to the moment when they had first stepped hand-in-hand over the threshold. He had done his best to make everything as perfect as he could – aided considerably by the magic passed on to him by Martok. And it was only by making use of that same magic that his leaving was now possible. Should she be awake, he knew for certain that his resolve would fail him.

  The urgent call of Lumnia was now like needles in his mind. Only the ecstatic memories of his and Kat’s lovemaking kept him from wincing. Never had he imagined he could lose himself in a woman the way he had done with her. It was as if those before her had ceased to exist in his mind. More than ever, he knew nothing at all could surpass his love for her.

  The light peeking in through the window was an unwelcome reminder. It was time. Bending down, he kissed her lightly on the brow and said a silent goodbye. After turning away, he squeezed his eyes tightly shut to help gather his courage. His legs felt as if they were filled with lead. Only with a supreme effort was he able to take a reluctant first step toward the door.

  The bitter chill of mountain air bit hard at the exposed flesh of his face and arms. The little house he had carved from solid rock was facing the north wind, overlooking the sea. It had taken hours to find just the right spot, and longer still to carefully craft what he knew would be the very last place where he would ever set eyes on Kat. It had been worth every second. The magic he’d used was of a permanent nature and would survive him – leaving his creation as a lasting monument to the love they had shared.

  Maytra was waiting for him near the edge of the precipice. Ethan ran his hand down her muscular neck. “Protect her for me,” he said.

  Maytra snorted and grumbled, sending a wave of assurance through their bond. The dragon understood fully what he was about to do. In fact, Maytra probably understood better than he did. After mounting her, he took a long cleansing breath.

  The sinews in Maytra’s back and legs rippled with power as she spread her wings. Just before she took flight, Ethan gave in to temptation and glanced back at where Kat lay sleeping. The intricate frieze above the door depicted the two of them at different points in time since first meeting. Though his own skill as an artist left much to be desired, he’d drawn upon one of his ancestors who had possessed genuine artistic talent to guide his hand. The door was made of a deep red, iron-rich stone, highly polished and perfectly balanced on its hinges.

  Tearing his eyes away, he looked to the east where King Halvar was leading his people toward their greatest battle. The army Shinzan had unleashed had already leveled several cities and towns inside the Ralmarian border and had now gathered for a march across the breadth of Al’ Theona. If they were not stopped, the death toll would be unimaginable. But that was no longer Ethan’s concern. The elves and the dwarves, along with their new human allies, would need to hold out a while longer.

  For a time, he had thought to delay his destiny and fight with them. His power would absolutely tip the scales in their favor. But the call of Lumnia would not allow it. It was now with him constantly, and after they rounded the south face of the mountain he could also feel the presence of those who would guide him. Not even the elves were able to do this. At first he didn’t understand what it was. Even to him, the presence was distant and elusive. Whenever he tried to concentrate and make it more coherent, it simply vanished from his mind. Only as the call of Lumnia grew far louder and more persistent did it take on a definite form. And when he finally realized what it was, he was in utter disbelief.

  Maytra began a gentle spiraling descent. Below he could see a narrow opening in the rock at the foot of the mountain. They landed just a few yards away from this, and Ethan slid from the dragon’s back. A small pouch filled with some jerky, a water skin, and his blade were all he had with him. There would be no need for anything else.

  He placed his hands on Maytra’s snout. “Take care.”

  She lowered her head in acknowledgment, then took a step back. Spreading her wings, she let out a trumpeting roar that lasted a full minute. Tiny pieces of rock and debris shook loose and tumbled to the ground from the sheer force of the dragon’s farewell. With a final breath of hot air, she brought her wings hard down. Within moments she was circling high above the mountain top, streams of flame spewing forth from her great maw. It was a fitting tribute for a Dragonvein setting forth to meet his destiny.

  A lone figure appeared in the mouth of the opening. Ethan smiled. The twists and surprises life offered never ceased to amaze him. Caked in green mud and carrying a basket over his shoulder stood a massive adult troll.

  Ethan raised a hand in greeting, but the troll only stared back at him, expressionless and silent. Though simple-minded, Ethan now fully understood their deep connection to Lumnia. The elves were well aware of the consciousness that guided their home. The trolls, though…they were more like an actual extension of Lumnia’s spirit.

  He waited until Maytra was out of sight before approaching. The troll reacted by pressing its back to the rock, allowing him to pass. No sooner had Ethan done this and stepped fully inside than the opening behind began to close, encasing them in utter darkness. He waved a hand to produce an orb of soft white light a few feet ahead. The troll sniffed with disapproval and pressed his thick fingers to the rough wall. Ethan gasped as millions of tiny crystals pushed their way to the surface, their blue light illuminating the passage. He allowed his spell to fade and ran a palm over the wall. This was magic. Pure magic. It made his flesh tingle as if charged by electric currents. These were not rajni stones, just common crystals. The power came from the heart itself, summoned by a simple touch from the hulking creature behind him.

  They walked at a slow pace for more than a mile. The troll did not appear to be in any hurry. And in truth, neither was Ethan. The floor of the passage was unusually smooth and clean. He could hear the moaning cries of other adult trolls, together with the screeching wails of their young. They were still reeling from Shinzan’s attack on their home. The pain it had inflicted upon them was beyond measure. And yet they felt no anger that he could sense. Only sorrow.

  Ethan glanced over his
shoulder. “I’m sorry this has happened to you.”

  “Heal us.”

  The sound was a low huffing grunt. But Ethan could distinctly make out the words. He stopped short and stared up at the almost comical flat-featured and perfectly round face of the massive creature. He knew the elves could understand their form of language, but had no idea that this ability would be passed on to him.

  “Can you understand me?” he asked. As the words left his mouth he felt ridiculous for asking. Of course, it did.

  “Heal us,” the troll repeated. “Save Lumnia.”

  “I will try.”

  The creature locked eyes with Ethan. “You must succeed. The darkness will not rest. It cannot rest. Our mother’s power will not fill its void. Nothing can. It will move on. It will grow stronger. Consume other worlds. It must end.”

  Though the sounds were only a series of guttural moans and groans, the desperation in the troll’s eyes was unmistakable.

  “I can only promise to try,” he repeated.

  After a brief pause, the troll nodded his head. The wall beside him then opened with a sharp crack, revealing another short passage. He pointed for Ethan to enter.

  “Farewell, Dragonvein,” he said. His part done, he turned and lumbered back along the way they had come, vanishing in seconds as the lights from the crystals blinked out.

  A dim glow emanated from the opening. Ethan peered inside to see an enormous cavern several hundred feet in diameter. Its walls were bejeweled with a kaleidoscope of tiny multicolored gems, while the ceiling above was almost beyond his sight. Only a vast display of pinprick lights shining down told of where it might be. It was as if he had stepped into the center of the night sky and was walking amongst the stars themselves.

  Several dozen adult trolls, both male and female, were gathered about in small groups of between two and five. Some looked at him as he entered, though most did not. The passage behind closed, leaving him wondering what to do next. He approached the nearest group of trolls, but they completely ignored him. He tried several more times while making his way ever deeper into the cavern, but always with the same result. After a time, his frustration began to build.

  “Can someone please tell me where I’m supposed to go now?” His voice echoed loudly off the walls, but still none of the trolls so much as acknowledged his presence.

  Ethan moved on toward to the rear of the cavern. In spite of receiving no further guidance, the call of Lumnia was still plaguing him, beckoning him to hurry. But to where? He had done as he’d been asked.

  “If this is a game, I’m not playing,” he huffed. To march willingly to one’s death was hard enough. To be toyed with along the way was…

  “No one is toying with you, Dragonvein.”

  The voice came from inside his mind, yet was as clear as if spoken by someone standing directly in front of him. It was female – young, from the sound of it – though he knew that meant nothing at all.

  “Where are you?” he demanded. “Let me see you.”

  “Once you step beyond the gate, I will be there.”

  “What gate?”

  “When you are ready, you will find it,” she replied.

  “Ready? What the hell are you talking about? I’m ready now. I came, didn’t I?”

  The voice turned to laughter. “Indeed you did. And I commend you for that. It could not have been an easy choice to make.”

  “Like you said, I made the choice,” he snapped back. “Now tell me what’s next.”

  “You know what to do,” she replied, her tone remaining light and friendly. “You answered our call. But we cannot force you to go on. Nor would we, even if we could. You say you are ready. I say in response, look to your heart. You still cling to what you have left behind. You are hoping to return, even though you know what you must do.”

  “That’s just it. I don’t know.”

  It was a lie. He did. He understood full well what she meant. He was still forming pictures in his mind of holding Kat once again after defeating his enemy. He was imagining a way through this that didn’t include his death. That had to stop. Hope was not a luxury he could afford.

  “That is not entirely true,” she said, hearing his thoughts. “You can have hope. But let it be hope for those you love and...”

  “And not for myself,” he said, completing the sentence.

  A short distance further down, where there had been a solid wall before, now stood an archway leading to a brightly lit corridor. As he approached, the scent of lavender and honeysuckle drifted on a warm breeze coming from inside. He smiled involuntarily as a sensation of well-being came over him. Suddenly, things did not feel so desperate after all.

  The passage ended in a long descending staircase. At the bottom was an ivory door with twelve intricate symbols inlaid in gold upon its face. As he reached for the handle, it swung open before his fingers could make contact.

  The sound of trickling water danced in the air like delicate glass chimes. Ethan stepped inside to find himself in an open meadow of tall, lush grass that was scattered with wildflowers. There was no obvious sign of a stream or a brook, yet the chimes persisted.

  “Is anyone there?” he called.

  The gentle rhythm of running water gradually transformed into dozens of laughing voices. Some of them seemed to be coming from children, while others had a more mature tone.

  “It is almost time, young Dragonvein.”

  It was the same voice that had spoken to him in the cavern. Only this time it was no longer in his head, but coming from somewhere a little further ahead. He surveyed the area closely, yet could see no one.

  “Where are you?”

  “We are here. All around you.”

  “Who are you?”

  “We are the Arkazhi,” she replied. “At least, that is the name you will most likely know us by. Elves do come up with the strangest names for what they cannot understand.”

  “Yes,” he said, “I have heard that name. And from what I understand, you are the spirits who serve Lumnia.” His bond with the elves had given him this knowledge, though he was now becoming unsure as to its truth.

  “That is indeed how the elves imagine us,” she said. “However, as you are now realizing, they do not truly understand.”

  “If you are not spirits, then what are you?”

  “Quite simply, we are Lumnia. Her aspects, her voice, and her will. We do not serve her. Think of us more as an arm or a leg. The limb does your bidding, yet it is not in any way separate from yourself.”

  Ethan considered this. “I think I understand. You are extensions of Lumnia’s power.”

  “Yes,” she affirmed. “That which you call magic binds us in the same way that your flesh binds you. The only difference being that Lumnia is infinitely more complex than your frail mortal frame.”

  Ethan tried to imagine his hand with a mind of its own, but it was too strange a concept.

  “You are close,” she said, once again invading his thoughts. “In time, you will grasp it.”

  “Time?” he scoffed. “What time? You know as well as I do how this ends.”

  A shimmering silhouette appeared a few feet in front of him. Though she was featureless, Ethan was certain she was smiling.

  “Why would I know that?” she asked. “Beyond your death, I cannot predict the outcome. And as you well know, death is not the end.”

  “Then what will happen to me?”

  “You will be touched by the true spirit of Lumnia. When your body ceases to be, you will join with us here. That is, if you choose to do so.”

  “And what if I don’t?”

  “Then you will face what all must face eventually,” she replied. “The eternal mystery of what lies beyond. When that time arrives, you must choose. But do not be troubled. I may not know what the future holds for you, but whatever it is, fear will not burden your heart once your task is completed.” She turned. “Come. Your journey is long, and our need is great.”

  Ethan followed h
er for several yards. The light around him then began to ripple as if a pebble had been thrown into a pond. Slowly the scenery faded until there was nothing but darkness, broken only by the light of his Arkazhi guide. He pondered what it would be like to join with these beings. He had already experienced the realm where his ancestors resided. Would it be like that? No. Probably not. It was probably something that, for the time being, was far beyond his ability to comprehend.

  The figure halted and lifted her arm to point ahead. “There.”

  A rush of hot air blasted his face as a pillar of flames erupted, shooting high into the void. Shielding his face with both hands, Ethan stepped sharply back. A great roar then shook the ground – deeper and more forceful than even a dragon’s call.

  “What is it?”

  “The door,” she replied, her tone calm and even.

  He gave her a scathing look “That’s a door? How the hell am I supposed to pass through that?”

  “It only appears as you imagine it,” she explained.

  Ethan’s mouth twisted into an incredulous frown. As I imagine it? he thought, knowing full well that she could hear him. Taking a deep breath, he shut his eyes and steadied his nerves. When he reopened them less than a minute later, the flames were gone. In their place was a silver arbor interlaced with fragile yellow and white flower vines.

  “Very good,” she said. “I like that much better. But be warned – once you pass through, you will be facing very real danger.”

  “What kind of danger?”

  “Shinzan is consuming Lumnia’s power. His essence pollutes and distorts everything it touches. He will do all he can to stop you from reaching him. Furthermore, throughout this trial, your magic will not be of any avail. He will set your fears and your dreams against you, trying every way he knows to strip you of your will. But take heart; if you remain strong, you can overcome his influence.”

  “And when I reach the other side?”