by Sam Ferguson
“So, the only threat to your family that remains are the drakkul who seek the engine,” Indyrith said.
I nodded. “Yeah,” I said.
“Then, I think it’s time you show me the memory of when you met the other drakkul who wanted to work with us.”
“Why now?” I asked.
The elf king flicked his brow upward for an instant and took in a breath. “Now, with your family safe from all other foes, I can explore your memory with you. It may take us some time to find him.”
“How will exploring my memory help us find him now?” I pressed.
“Do you remember the first time I took you inside your memory?”
Then it clicked. “Yes, I was able to interact with the drakkul,” I said excitedly. “So now I can go back and talk with him once more.”
Indyrith nodded. “And I will go with you. I believe there may be merit to his offer. I have found mentions of feuding drakkul clans in the archives. That, and the fact that their society is built upon a firm foundation of honor and honesty, make me believe that we may have indeed stumbled upon a worthy ally.”
“All right, then, let’s do this. I scooted to the edge of my cot and waited for the elf to put his hands on either side of my head. Just as with the other times, we were whisked away, but this time we didn’t cross distances of miles, but rather into the space of my own mind. We went to the fight with the alp and watched everything together until the scene shifted to the home of the drakkul and the monstrous pterodactyl attacked.
“At the end of this memory, there is a time when I spoke with the drakkul. Perhaps we can get his attention there,” I said. The elf king nodded and folded his hands behind his back patiently as we watched the entire memory unfold.
I waited until the point when Drendarin extended his hand to shake mine and seal the alliance. Then I walked forward. I knew that the old me was only going to look at the hand for a few moments before suddenly ending the dream. I reached out and grabbed Drendarin’s hand. Drendarin felt the connection and then looked up and smiled.
I nodded to him. “Come now, and meet me. I am ready to speak with you.”
Then the memory ended and everything went black.
“Do you think he heard me?” I asked.
Indyrith smiled. “I would think so. Come, let us return to the real world and see if he contacts us through a portal.”
We ended the session and waited in the bedroom for a few minutes. When Drendarin didn’t come, I suggested that I try to contact him again through the dream world in real time, rather than reaching through the memory to affect the past.
“I will go and watch with Rolf. Should a portal open and Drendarin wish to speak, it would be a disaster if Rolf slew him first.”
I laughed a bit at that, but Indyrith didn’t share in my mirth. The elf king frowned and arched a brow. After he left, I worked on finding the state between sleeping and consciousness. I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised, but I was unable to keep the delicate balance. Instead, I fell over on my cot and dropped into a deep sleep. I had a couple of dreams then. The first two I didn’t remember or even notice. My body had been so tired from all of the activity lately that I was sleeping more soundly than I could recall at any other point in my life.
Then, during a particularly fun dream where I was flying upon the back of a great bird, I looked down and saw a familiar face on a hillock. Drendarin was there, and suddenly I realized where I was. The bird vanished and I floated down to Drendarin.
“I had hoped you would reconsider,” Drendarin said.
I nodded and then looked the lizard-man straight in the eyes. “Tell me about Moscow.”
Drendarin frowned and swished his tail nervously behind him. “That was not my doing. I had no knowledge that they were going to strike, but this serves only to strengthen my argument. You see now that they do not even respect the laws set forth by those who separated the seven realms. They enter your world and plunder and murder so that they can get gain. They have no honor. They could never be fit to rule.”
“How would you dispose of the engine?” I asked. “We have some resources here, but some of the people we could bring to the fight will likely want to keep it as badly as this other clan of drakkul does.”
“Do you trust me?” Drendarin asked.
I shook my head. “Not entirely, but Indyrith was intrigued when I told him about you, and I think I believe you about Moscow.”
“What can I do to convince you more?” Drendarin asked.
“You can tell me what you have that I need. You said you could offer me something that would help in the fight. What was it?”
Drendarin smiled. He held out a sword. “Take this,” he said eagerly.
“A sword? I already have one, and it glows with magic symbols and everything. You’re gonna have to do better than that.”
Drendarin laughed. “The sword I offer you is very precious. It is made of mithril, the same metal that prevents you from dream walking into Rathison’s mansion.”
“And this will let me pass through the door if I hold it or something?” I asked.
Drendarin shook his head. “No, but you know how werewolves react to silver, yes?” Drendarin asked.
I nodded.
“This sword will be like a blade of fire to the gargoyles. Just the slightest cut from this will incapacitate or kill even the largest of the monsters. Slay a good number of them, and the swarm will disperse and abandon the hall.”
“Are you certain?” I asked.
“Gargoyles are good guardians for vampires, but they are not loyal servants. Wreak havoc with this sword, and they will flee. I should know. You see, before my clan became tinkerers and inventors, we were the most successful vampire hunters on my home world. We have eradicated the foul creatures from our lands entirely. This weapon was forged for that sole purpose. It is known as the Gargoyle’s Bane. Also, what you may not know, is that whatever you cut off of a vampire with this blade, will not grow back. Whether you take a hand, a foot…”
“Or a head?” I jumped in.
“Exactly. It puts you on more even footing with the foul things.”
“That’s all well and good, but how do we get into the door?”
“For that, you will have to rely on human ingenuity. I assume a few of your bombs should open it up nicely. If I were you, I would be more concerned about the vampires. Kill the gargoyles and chase them away first, then go for the door while the rest of your warriors try to hold off the vampires. Find the engine, and then summon me through the dream world. Once I have your signal, I will come through in a portal and destroy the machine.”
“Actually, we can skip the gargoyles. I won’t be in the dream world for this fight.”
Drendarin smiled and let out a sly hiss. “The gargoyles will smell you coming. They may appear as stone in the real world, but when someone like you comes to them, they will come to life whether in the real world or the realm of dreams.”
“I see,” I said. “And how will you use a portal if the room is encased in mithril?” I pressed.
“Once you have blasted the door and opened the room, it will be like taking the lid off of a jar. The mithril only keeps portals out if it is sealed. Leave a hole, and I can come to you.”
“And so can the other clan, then, am I right?”
Drendarin’s smile faded. “Yes, and that is why you must contact me as soon as the way is clear.” He reached under his shirt and brought up a necklace with a single fang on it. “Take this, it is my first tooth. When you want to contact me, think on this item, and I will hear your call in the dream world.”
“Your first tooth, like a baby tooth?” I said as I took the necklace and looked at the small fang.
“Each of us drakkul are born with a single fang. It grows in the middle of our jaws until the third year of our lives, when it falls away and our full sets come in. Our first tooth is always kept close, as it symbolizes rebirth, and helps us heal, or so the tradition says.”
I nodded. “All right, then I will take your sword and your tooth, but how do I get them into the real world from here?”
“You already have,” Drendarin stated. “One more thing. I have instructions for you.” Drendarin pulled a folded paper from a pocket and held it out to me. “We once had to deal with harbinger wolves that infested our world. Eventually, one of our clans discovered how to make them stop. I believe if you follow the instructions I have outlined for you here, then you can rid your world of the harbinger wolves.”
“All of them?” I asked skeptically.
Drendarin smiled. “It worked for us. There is a particular item you will need, but I think you will see that it is not beyond your grasp.”
I unfolded the paper and read the few lines on it. It was so simple, and yet I would not have thought of it. “I will try this,” I said.
Drendarin nodded and then sighed. “I must go and prepare for the battle that is to come. I must take care that no one suspects my true intentions. Fare well, my new friend.”
Drendarin vanished from the dream.
I sighed and looked at the items in my hand. “A magic necklace and a mithril sword… sure, why not?”
Waking up after that was easy. I blinked a few times and found myself lying on the cot. What I hadn’t expected, was to be lying next to the sword that Drendarin had given me in the dream. In my right hand was the necklace with the fang as well.
“All right, then,” I said to myself. I turned and stood up just as Dan opened the door to my room and walked in.
“Rise and shine—” Dan stopped and looked at the sword in my hand. “You’re up,” he said. “Where’d you get that sword?”
“The drakkul gave it to me last night, along with this necklace.”
“You let him in here, and didn’t have any of us—”
I shook my head. “No, I spoke with him in the dream world.”
“So now you can pull objects out of dreams?”
I shrugged and nodded. “Looks like it.”
“Remind me when this is over to have you dream up a couple million dollars so I can retire, okay?”
I laughed. “Is Indyrith nearby? I want him to look at this sword.”
“Yeah, he’s talking with the three Vikings. The door’s locked, so you’ll have to wait your turn, but we don’t leave for another half hour, so you should be good.”
“Going to Rathison’s mansion?” I asked.
Dan nodded. “Flint called it in to Briggs. It took most of the night to convince the idiot. Even an agent as trigger happy as Briggs doesn’t want to be caught with the kind of paperwork that would come with storming Rathison’s place in error.”
“But he’s coming?”
Dan sighed. “Yeah, along with some heavy crews. He’ll handle the quarantine, and then we’re gonna ride in there just like Rolf wants, guns blazing, swords gleaming, the whole nine.”
“Then I should go and talk with Indyrith now,” I said as I looked down to the sword. “Apparently this is supposed to be a great anti-gargoyle weapon.”
“That little toothpick?” Dan scoffed. “You take what you like, but I’m gonna be sitting behind a fifty cal with incendiary rounds. It’s a special mix I’ve been working on for a while now. It will be fun to try it out. Gargoyles, stone, vampires, everything should go down once I get that beast humming.”
“I wasn’t aware you could use incendiary rounds in a fifty cal,” I said.
“I have several tricks up my sleeve. You should see my Tomb Breacher. It’s a modified AA-12.” Dan quieted down and then offered a sheepish smile. “Sorry, I get excited about my creations. I have to go prep the others. Be ready to leave in thirty minutes.
I went down the hall and turned left at the first tunnel branching off.
Indyrith was three doors down and on the right. I knocked lightly, hoping I might be able to interrupt whatever was going on inside with the three Vikings. Indyrith’s daughter opened the door and smiled at me.
“We have been waiting for you, Joshua Mills.” She stepped back and opened the door. I walked inside and saw the three Vikings painting their shields and weapons with a fresh coat to brighten their appearance.
“Ah, Joshua Mills, how did you sleep?”
I raised the sword from Drendarin. “I wanted to show this to you,” I said. “Drendarin gave it to me and said it was made of mithril.”
Indyrith rose from his position sitting cross-legged on the floor and crossed the distance between us in three steps. He plucked the weapon from my hand and pulled it free from the scabbard. “The drakkul told the truth, this sword is made of mithril. I have been reading and studying through the night. I was going to say that we would need such a weapon to ward off the gargoyles.”
I looked around the room and frowned. “I’m sorry, is there a secret library somewhere? I don’t see any books.”
Indyrith pulled a small device from the folds of his robes. “I may be an elf, but I live in the modern age. I can carry thousands of books in this device. It’s a marvelous time to be alive, is it not?”
I smiled and laughed at the sight of the e-reader. “Yeah, I guess that makes sense. I thought you were going to say something crazy like Nick the Sasquatch is telepathic and you read the books through his eyes or something.”
“One does not always need to look far to find magic,” Indyrith said as he placed the device back into his pocket. “Now, what is in your other hand?”
I showed him the necklace. “Drendarin said that once I blast through the doors that have the mithril plating, I should contact him and he will use a portal to come and destroy the device.”
Indyrith nodded. “Do you trust him now?” the elf king asked.
I shrugged. “I’m not entirely sure, but I think he is sincere.”
“Well, that will have to do,” Indyrith replied. “Come, join us. Rolf is preparing for the battle.”
“No, I didn’t want to intrude, I just wanted to see if Drendarin was telling the truth about the sword.”
“Come, sit!” Rolf said. I looked beyond Indyrith to see the large Viking staring up at me. “You fight like one of us.”
Indyrith nodded and then stepped aside, gesturing for me to go and sit with Rolf.
I went to him and sat as he polished the side of an axe.
“It will be a worthy battle, with much honor to win,” Rolf said. “Vampires are some of the most foul creatures; they offend Odin. The All-father will grant us victory over them.” Rolf laid his axe on the floor to his left and pulled a sturdy sword. “Come, we will pray to Odin.”
“I do not share your belief in Odin,” I said as politely as I could.
“HA! No one is perfect,” Rolf said as he slapped me on my back. Arne and Bjorn joined in. “Tell me, Christian, does your God grant you strength?”
I nodded. “I believe that he does.”
“Then we are not so different,” Rolf said. “You fight with a fire in your heart, yet you acknowledge that strength comes from virtue as a blessing and favor.” Rolf’s smile disappeared and he raised his sword to study the edge closely. “Where we differ is in the length of our lives. Our kin are all passed to the halls of Valhalla, yet we are denied the opportunity to see them. We remain below, fighting the beasts and monsters that plague this world. We fight, as Odin wills it, for as long as Thor shall give us strength. You shall one day grow gray of hair and weak of body. You shall have your rest, and we three shall remain here, standing watch at the gate. We are not permitted to die.” Rolf set his sword down and looked at me with fierce eyes. “I do not know by what magic you walk in the realm of dreams and nightmares, but I know that I admire you as a brother, Christian.”
“As do I,” Arne said.
“And I, added Bjorn.
“We three will be honored to fight beside you, Joshua Mills.”
Given what I had seen Rolf do to the drakkul champion back in the forests of western Washington, I took that as a tremendous compliment. I offered a nod a
nd a half-smile while fumbling for the right words to say. All that came out in the end was a simplistic “thank you” but it got the point across and Rolf didn’t seem bothered by my less than eloquent expression.
The three Vikings placed their weapons in front of themselves and moved from sitting to kneeling. Arne looked upward, while Rolf and Bjorn focused on their weapons.
“Lo, there do I see my Father. Lo, there do I see my mother. Lo, there do I see my brothers and my sisters. Lo, there do I see my people back to the beginning,” Arne said solemnly. “Lo they do call me. They bid me take my place among them in the halls of Valhalla, where the brave shall live forever.”
Arne then bowed his head and Bjorn looked upward.
“Lo, here I see my enemy. Lo, here do I see his father. Lo, here do I see his mother. Lo, here do I see their warriors and their sorcerers. Lo, they are weeping and crying to their kin. They cry out for my blood, and for my life, but I shall not give it to them.” When Bjorn finished speaking, he bowed his head and Rolf looked upward as the three of them took their swords in hand.
“Lo, I do feel my sword. Lo, I do feel the heat of battle. Lo, I do feel the cold fingers of death. Lo, I do feel the strength of mighty Thor. My sword shall answer the threat, and my foes shall be laid low, or I shall live in Valhalla, where the brave feast forever.”
The three Vikings then stood and finished readying their weapons. Arne and Bjorn turned and walked toward the door. Rolf looked down to me and smiled. “It is an old prayer of our people, though most do not know the second or third parts.”
“It was stirring,” I said honestly as I got up to my feet.
Rolf placed a hand on my shoulder and his eyes narrowed ever so slightly on my own. “Come what may, this will be a day to remember, one worthy of song.”
I nodded.
“You should take this,” Rolf said as he pulled a long knife from his belt. “I have two of them. Wear it on your waist and pull it in a time of need. It has always kept me safe.”
“Wow, I’m not sure what to say,” I said as I turned the blade over in my hand.
“The handle is carved from the antler of an elk, and the blade was forged by my father.”