Dragonvein Book Five

by Brian D. Anderson

  As midnight approached, the smooth terrain became rocky and pitted with grass-covered holes. Though following closely in Markus’ footsteps, Ethan still managed to slip twice, in the process bruising his ankle and tearing the leather of his boot.

  Silhouetted in the distance, he could now see a tall spire surrounded by four smaller towers. An abandoned road, mostly covered in grass and weeds, led to a wall topped with a series of triangular spikes. This encircled the whole of the complex, though several breaches in it could be seen as they drew near to the main gatehouse, likely the result of a siege long ago.

  Ethan cast a spell to enhance his sight. The wall was unmanned, and there was no sign of movement near the gate.

  “Stay low,” instructed Markus.

  Ethan followed closely until they were a few yards away from the main gate. From there they moved left, bypassing the first breach and pressing their backs to the wall just short of the second. Markus drew his blade and looked back at Ethan.

  “Can you tell if anyone is in the tower?” he asked.

  Ethan nodded. Illusion or no, his heart was pounding. He cast a spell to sharpen his hearing and then focused it on the spire and the towers. The only sounds that came back were the wind whistling through the cracks in the stone façade and the scurrying of rats.

  “It sounds like they’re all empty,” he whispered. “Are you sure they are here?”

  “They’re here all right,” Markus assured him grimly. “But I was hoping they didn’t know about the catacombs.”

  Still leading the way, he climbed over the rubble of the devastated wall and, moving with uncanny silence in the shadows cast by a half-moon, skirted the courtyard inside. Ethan was tempted to tell him that all this caution was unnecessary. He didn’t care if a hundred Rakasa were waiting for them. He had no reason to fear them. Not anymore. Nevertheless, a tiny voice in the back of his mind told him to remain on his guard.

  “Who built this?” he asked.

  Markus raised his finger to his lips and gave him a warning look.

  “There’s no one here,” he whispered in response. “I would know.”

  His friend sighed. “It was the elves, if you must know. They built it as a place to commune with the spirit of Lumnia.”

  As they rounded the final corner, a ten-foot-tall mausoleum made from polished white marble came into view. Along the side of this were carved the names of several elves, together with the date on which they died. A frieze above an iron gate depicted nine elf women kneeling with heads bowed, each holding aloft a basket filled with a variety of fruits and berries.

  “The keepers of the temple were buried here,” Markus said. “It was only after the mages drove them out a thousand years ago that the Urazi took possession.”

  “What did they use it for?”

  “A place to hide mostly. Somewhere safe to lie low after an assassination.”

  “So they made you a Muraji,” Ethan remarked thoughtfully.

  Markus paused. “Why would you say that?”

  “Only a Muraji could speak so freely.” He tapped his finger to his temple. “Martok knew all there was to know about their inner workings.”

  Markus glowered. “I shouldn’t have said anything. That was my mistake. Don’t ask me anything else, got it?” Still scowling, he pulled open the gate.

  The ancient hinges immediately screamed in protest, sending a shiver down Ethan’s spine. “Yeah. I think being quiet is a bit pointless, don’t you?” he stated with a small grin.

  Softly muttering a curse, Markus moved on. The interior was covered in cobwebs and dust. A life-size statue stood in the corners – each one depicting an elf in long robes with hands folded and eyes downcast. In the center was a large basin made of black onyx. Elven lettering around the rim spelled out words: peace, knowledge, charity, and love.

  Markus studied the basin for a time, running his hands along the edge and pressing it with his fingertips in different places.

  “Step back,” Ethan told him after several minutes had passed.

  “I can do it,” Markus insisted.

  Ethan touched the basin anyway. “Rilzi Dur.”

  The basin shattered to dust, revealing a circular opening in the floor with a rusted ladder. Ethan stepped away with a smile on his face.

  “Do you know how old that was?” Markus snapped. “I was trying not to damage it.”

  “I couldn’t care less how old it was,” Ethan shot back. “Either I’ve lost my memory and Kat’s really in danger, or I’m sane and all this is just an illusion. So the last thing I care about right now is breaking some old bowl.” Ignoring Markus’ anger, he looked into the opening and then began climbing down.

  After twenty feet, he reached the bottom and cast a small orb of light to lead the way. Markus was close behind, still fuming. They were now standing in a narrow passage that ended at another iron gate. Beyond this, Ethan could see the dim light of burning torches illuminating a room of indiscernible dimensions. Someone was definitely down here.

  When only a few feet away from the gate, he felt the tingle of a warning that raised the hairs on the back of his neck. A ward had been placed just on the other side of the entrance. One with which he was quite familiar.

  “Why do you hesitate?” a rasping voice called. A figure cloaked in a black hooded robe stepped into view.

  “You think this will stop me?” Ethan scoffed.

  “Oh, I am sure it won’t,” the Rakasa replied. “Not indefinitely. I am well aware of how powerful you are…Dragonvein. But I also know it will take time for you to shatter this ward. Time, I believe, you will not want to waste.” From the folds of its robe the creature produced an egg-shaped blue stone. “Do you know what this is?”

  Ethan glared furiously but said nothing.

  “No?” The Rakasa looked past him to Markus. “I would wager that you do.” It placed the stone on the floor and backed away. “This one is set for ten minutes. And I do not need to tell you where its companion is. I would not delay if I were you.” With that, the creature spun and vanished behind the corner.

  Markus immediately rushed forward, nearly toppling Ethan on his way past. With all the force of his momentum behind it, he planted his boot dead center of the gate’s lock. It flew open, slamming noisily into the wall behind. But the Rakasa was already gone.

  “What is that thing?” Ethan asked, pointing to the stone.

  “It’s a bomb,” Markus replied, red faced and shaking with fury. “I’ve used them before. You place the other half near the target and then use this to set it off.”

  “Can you disarm it?”

  Markus shook his head. “No. It’s been set to go off at a specific time. Only the one who set it can turn it off. And like that thing just said, you can be damn sure where the explosive half has been put.”

  A great wave of alarm was already rushing through Ethan. “Do you have any idea where they’d hold her?” he asked urgently.

  “The catacombs are huge,” Markus told him. “They go on for miles. She could be anywhere.”

  Ethan looked at the floor. Though the ward would be invisible to his friend, he could see it clearly and knew what it meant. The moment he passed through he would be robbed of all magic. The effects would be temporary – twenty minutes at the most – but still long enough to prevent him from reaching Kat in time. And it would take at least that long were he to remain here and try to break it.

  There was only one decision he could make. Drawing his sword, he stepped forward. “Well, I guess we’ll have to do this the hard way.”

  The moment he passed over the ward, he felt a cold wave climb up his body. He thrust out a hand to create a spell, but his fears were confirmed. He was powerless.

  The blade he was holding felt well-balanced. Martok had been a master with a sword, and Ethan had memories of every lesson his ancestor had taken. Even so, this was a clumsy and awkward way to fight when compared to magic. And the Rakasa would now have a marked advantage over him in speed
and strength. He quickly reminded himself that this was all just an elaborate deception. It had to be.

  He paused and explained his loss of magic to Markus. His friend’s jaw tightened, but other than this, he showed little reaction.

  “Are you ready?” he asked.

  Ethan nodded sharply. With the two of them, they might just stand a chance against the creature. Markus was about as deadly a foe as one could find. And the look in his eyes said that he was a man with nothing to lose. Such men were twice as dangerous.

  They moved on through the only door ahead and quickly down another long hallway. Small alcoves were evenly spaced along the wall, each one containing a masterfully crafted stone sarcophagus. Eventually, after a hundred yards or so, the hall split left and right.

  Markus pointed to the torches, which now continued along only the right-hand path. “It seems we’re being shown the way. Rakasa don’t need light to see.”

  “Or we’re being deliberately led away,” Ethan suggested.

  “I doubt it. I think it wants to fight us.” Markus cracked a thin smile. “Well, it wants to fight you, at least.”

  After a few more turns they entered a round chamber, roughly fifty feet in diameter and with a domed ceiling. Set in recesses along the left side of the wall was a series of black crystals, each two feet in length, thick as a man’s arm, and standing on end. Directly across from their position stood an archway leading into the next chamber.

  Both men paused to exchange glances.

  “I don’t like this,” said Markus.

  Even though Ethan shared his feeling, there was no other course but to press on. However, as he started toward the archway, a red mist began seeping out through its keystone.

  “I don’t suppose there’s any chance of that stuff being harmless, is there?” asked Markus.

  “No chance at all,” Ethan told him. “It’s been triggered by the ward. Touch it and it’ll melt the skin right off your bones.” He cursed himself for his carelessness. He should have seen the subtle addition to the spell. This much he could have dealt with in advance, even if he couldn’t have broken the ward entirely.

  “So how do we get through?”

  Ethan tore a piece of cloth from his sleeve and tossed it into the mist. It instantly turned to dust. “This was cleverly made,” he mused while scrolling through all the vast knowledge of wards stored in his mind.

  After a moment, he looked to the crystals. “It has to be one of those.”

  There were twelve in all – each one identical and bearing no markings of any kind. All of them would likely dispel the barrier. But only one was the right choice. Choose wrongly and there was no way of knowing what kind of added devilry it would unleash.

  “Well?” pressed Markus. “How do we get through it?”

  “We have to pick the right crystal,” he told him.

  “What happens if we pick the wrong one?”

  “Nothing good.”

  Time was running out. They couldn’t have more than five minutes left to save Kat. Desperately, Ethan looked for any indication that might reveal the correct choice. There was nothing...nothing at all. Not even so much as a spot of disturbed dust on the floor. All he had to go on was instinct.

  Finally, he turned to Markus. “Whoever picks up the crystal will be the one who the magic is focused on. It should also stop the mist.” He took a deep breath. “The moment it stops, you go on through and save Kat.”

  “Are you insane?”

  Ethan smiled. “Hey. I don’t believe this is real anyway. So what do I have to lose?”

  He crossed over to the third crystal along. With his heart thudding loudly in his ears, it was all he could do to keep his hands steady. He knew the consequences of a poor choice. It could be as mild as a containment spell or as severe as being consumed by flames. Given the source of the spell, he doubted it would be the former. He reached out cautiously with both hands.

  “You may not think this is real, but I do.”

  He suddenly felt Markus grab his collar and jerk him hard back, sending him sliding across the floor. By the time he was able to regain his feet, his friend had already seized up the crystal. The mist quickly began to clear. To Ethan’s amazement and relief, nothing else happened.

  “I guess you picked the right one,” Markus said, visibly relieved.

  The words had barely left his mouth when the floor beneath his feet turned to a thick black ooze. He tried to move, but his boots were stuck fast. Ethan rushed over and grabbed his arms, pulling with all his strength. It was useless. No matter how hard he tried to prevent it, Markus was steadily sinking lower and lower into the mire. Ethan screamed and cursed, but astonishingly, Markus had a look of calm acceptance about him.

  “Leave me,” said Markus. “There’s nothing you can do. Save Kat.”

  When Ethan ignored him and continued with his efforts, he hardened his tone. “You’re almost out of time. Either stay here and watch me die, or save Kat. You can’t do both.”

  Ethan let out another feral cry.

  “Just go!” Markus shouted. His features then softened. “It’s all right. I’m ready.”

  By now, he was up to his chest in the ooze. Ethan knew he had to accept the inevitable. Unable to find any words, he gave his friend a silent farewell. Markus nodded in return and then closed his eyes.

  Knowing that this was all a clever deception was not taking away the pain from Ethan’s loss. Only the need to save Kat rose above this. Grim-faced, he dove through the archway and down another long passage. After a few more turns he reached a large oak door. It was hanging wide open, revealing a broad, semi-circular chamber lit by silver lamps suspended from the ceiling. Kat was there, secured with chains and manacles to the wall. She appeared to be unconscious.

  Ignoring the possible danger, he rushed over to her. She was indeed unconscious. The other half of the stone, identical to the first, was dangling from a thin string around her neck. Knowing that time would be up any second, he ripped the stone free and threw it to the far side of the room. This done, he wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly to shield her body with his own.

  “Very noble, but there’s really no need for that,” came the voice of the Rakasa. “The stone was disabled the moment your friend triggered the ward. A pity he wasn’t more careful. A terrible way to die, I am told.”

  The shackles holding Kat vanished. Ethan caught her and laid her gently on the floor. He then turned to face the creature, his rage bordering on madness. The ringing of steel echoed from the stone walls as he drew his blade. It truly felt as if it were an extension of his arm. With Martok’s knowledge of swordplay now a part of himself, he could fully appreciate the craft that went into forging his weapon.

  The Rakasa was already holding a long, curved blade, though its relaxed posture gave no indication that it was intent on fighting. “Would you really end my life, Dragonvein?” it asked.

  The creature’s voice had changed; taking on a distinctly feminine timbre. With its free hand, it pushed back the hood to reveal the delicate features of an elf woman. She looked remarkably similar to Keira, though with slightly more pronounced cheekbones and fuller lips.

  “As I understand it,” she continued, “Men from the world where you grew up do not care to fight females.”

  Ethan sniffed. “You are nothing more than a monster to me. I don’t care what you look like. On the inside, you’re just the same as any other thing Shinzan has poisoned.”

  “And you think that is my fault?” she countered, looking very convincingly hurt. “I did not ask to be as you see me now.”

  “You chose to side with Shinzan,” he retorted. “You betrayed your people. And now you want what? Sympathy?” He felt a tingling in his hands, causing him to suppress a smile. Keep her talking.

  “I want your understanding, Dragonvein. I must do as my master commands. But I do not relish it.”

  “That’s not what it seems like to me. You had no problem killing Markus.”
<
br />   She flicked her wrist. “He deserved his fate. Compared to Specter, I am an innocent. His past deeds warranted far worse than he received.”

  Her words further fueled Ethan’s rage. Only a little longer, he told himself. Aloud, he said: “We all deserve to die. Who are you to judge?”

  “I did not judge him,” she responded. “In truth, I was rather impressed with his sacrifice. I would not have thought it within his character.”

  “You didn’t know him like I did.”

  “No. I didn’t. And you are right. We all deserve death for what we have done. What I don’t understand is why you actively seek it.” She pointed to the still unconscious Kat. “There is your woman. Why not open a portal and return to your own world with her? This fight is over. You have lost, but there is no need to die.”

  “So you will just let me leave?”

  The Rakasa shrugged. “Why not? My time is nearing its end. Soon my master will have consumed Lumnia. He will have no more use for my kind.”

  “And you would defy him? I don’t believe you.”

  She gave him a half-smile. “Shinzan did not command me to kill you. Nor did he say that I should prevent you from taking your woman. My only orders were to kill any of your friends that might attempt to rescue her. So you see, I have not disobeyed. Your friend failed in his mission, and now he is dead.”

  She was convincing. The Ethan who had first arrived in Lumnia might have been stupid enough to be taken in. But not any longer. That Ethan was gone. With a show of great nonchalance, he tossed his sword to the ground.

  For a few seconds the Rakasa was dumbstruck, the only sound within the chamber the clatter of steel on stone. When she finally raised her eyes to meet Ethan’s, her smile had turned vicious. “Had I not seen it for myself, I would not have believed it. How are you that stupid?”

  Ethan was smiling back at her. “So, do you truly intend to let me and Kat leave? Think about your answer before you say anything.”

  This exhibition of confidence clearly put the Rakasa off-balance. “No. Of course I don’t. You are no match for me with a blade. I was merely toying with you.”