Bane of the Dragon King

by J. Keller Ford

  Charlotte smiled. “You are mistaken, Seyekrad. You will never win this war. Kill me if you must, but you and Einar will die with me.”

  “I admire your spunk. It will be a welcome addition to the shadowmorth collection. Soon, all your powers will be drained from you, and when they are, I will come back for you to witness Einar drain the Numí life from you and transform it into the most powerful shadowmorth of the realm. Together with Einar and myself, we will rule the world. Until then, I must hunt your paladin friend and kill him once and for all. He has been a thorn in my side for far too long.”

  “Leave David out of this,” she bargained. “I’m the one you want. If you are so certain I am to die, he will not matter to you in any way.”

  He pinched her cheeks together. “He will die because I will it, but more so because it will hurt you to your core. There is no escaping it.” He tossed her against the wall and stood. “I might even bring his head to you as proof. Hate will live in you, I promise, and when it does, you know we will have won.” He left the cage, tossing a spell over his shoulder. The other Numí in the cage cried out, their faces twisted in pain. He laughed, and the sound pierced her deep inside. The cage door locked. “Set a few shadowmorths to keep watch,” he said to Prince Venniver. “We have a war to win. Let’s fly.”

  Venniver’s body shifted and morphed, the transition taking seconds. He lowered his dragon form and Seyekrad used the scales to climb aboard. The beast turned to face her. A quick glance at his chest revealed what she longed to know: Eric’s blade did penetrate Einar’s hide. Scales were missing, and in their place, a black burn mark the size of a school bus. Good, she thought. His heart’s been damaged. He’s weak. Vulnerable. Maybe sending him to the afterlife wouldn’t be as difficult as she thought.

  Enjoy your last moments, Einar crooned in her head. I look forward to our next encounter.

  He lifted his wings, and four wispy black shapes swarmed from his body. Charlotte covered her ears as they screeched and darted to the dark canopy of the cave, waiting like bats. The beast stomped toward the opening of the cave and leapt.

  Charlotte sat in the corner, her knees pulled to her chest, trying to figure a way out of the mess she was in. Evil pricked at her skin, the shadowmorths’ presence invading every pore. She looked at the other eleven Numí that occupied the space with her, their faces blank. She needed to figure out a way to get through to them, to make them come alive again. They were guardians of the heavens and the earths. They should be able to deal with a little silver.

  Then again, Superman had his kryptonite. Maybe there were some things that couldn’t be overcome.

  No! I don’t believe that! she thought. Her father always told her to never give up on anything. To never accept defeat. He always said there was a way to fix things, to find a way out. All she had to do was find it. But how? The silver continued to drain her energy. She could feel it oozing from her. Her roommates were zombies. She couldn’t reach David or Slavandria. How she wished Slavandria had taught her how to avoid her mind and her soul being stolen by a shadowmorth. Maybe there was no way to avoid it.

  She moved to the middle of the room away from direct contact with the cage and sat down. It helped a little with the energy-sucking thrum moving through the bars. She focused on the sound of the waterfall roaring past the mouth of the cave. There was peacefulness in its power. She lay on her side, the dirt floor cold and damp. A worm wriggled across the ground. A black beetle charged out of nowhere and ate it. That was life. The predator and the prey. She hated being the prey. She closed her eyes. She needed sleep. Maybe in the silence, an answer would come.

  ***

  She startled in her sleep and sat up. Curling her legs beneath her she glanced around her cramped quarters. A rumpled bedspread lay on a planked floor. Carved fish and sea creatures swam about the wooden walls. A musty smell hung in the air and a chill settled over her skin. She pushed aside a pair of red velvet curtains to find ocean and sky peering back at her through a round window. She scurried off the bed. A boat. How did I get on a boat? The cabin rocked, and she tumbled back into narrow steps behind her. Vomit burned in her throat. She raced upstairs, threw open the hatch, and stepped into bright, warm sunshine.

  Men scurried upon the deck, which sprawled endlessly in each direction. Squawking gulls swarmed the seven masts that rose to the sky, their massive sails billowing in the warm wind. She watched the deckhands bustle about, each with a task at hand. She tried to stop a few, but it was as if they didn’t see her.

  The ship pitched to one side, and Charlotte grabbed onto a net clinging to a mast. The ship righted immediately, and Charlotte shoved her heart back into her chest.

  “You’re not used to the sea, are you?”

  Charlotte spun around and came face to face with the mage of all mages. Slavandria and Lily’s father. Her grandfather.

  Jared.

  He was just as she remembered. Dark hair. Weathered skin. Tattoos on his arms and jewelry on every finger.

  She stammered. “I’m sorry. No. To tell you the truth I’ve never been on a boat before. Well, that’s not true. I’ve been on a small boat but nothing like this.”

  Charlotte rubbed her hands together before sticking them in her armpits. But that was a mistake as the ship pitched the other way. She fell into the mast and held onto the net for dear life.

  “How did I get here?” she asked.

  “I willed it,” he said. “You asked for help to get out of a precarious situation. I’m here to help you.”

  She grinned, but it was out of disbelief, not humor. “I don’t understand. You told Slavandria not to interfere. You said you wouldn’t interfere. What changed your mind?”

  “I will always intervene when it comes to my family. Slavandria knows that.”

  “You threatened to throw her in a mage prison.”

  He chuckled. “Parents frequently need to sound bad to get their point across. And yes, I might have done so for perhaps an entire five minutes just so she’d know I’d keep my word, but I’d never imprison my own flesh and blood. I’m not a monster.”

  “Where are we right now?”

  “We are moving into the Brindle Sea. We should reach the shores of Volly in less than a day.”

  Charlotte tightened her grip as the ship picked up speed. The wind brushed across her head, her hair flying back, away from her face.

  Hair. She had hair again. She touched her fingers to the silkiness of it, running her fingers through its length. It was growing inches by the second. She held it to her face, it was purple.

  “Yes!” She looked at Jared, her heart filling with something that felt like love, but how could she love him? She didn’t know him. And yet, here he stood before her, a rock-solid symbol of love and dedication to family.

  “You called out for help, my precious granddaughter. What is it that you need?”

  “Einar, Prince Venniver, whatever his name is has captured the Numí and has them and me trapped in a cave near the Wailing Wall. We’re locked in silver cages. I need to free us, but I don’t know how. He’s drained all our powers. The other Numí are shells, and I am becoming one. There are shadowmorths watching, and their presence is painful.”

  “You must not allow Einar to turn the Numí into shadowmorths. There is no greater force for Einar, nor a greater army. If he should turn them into shadowmorths, there is no limit to his power. He will have harnessed everything a Numí is and use it for evil. Numí with white magic pitted against Numí with dark. The deaths would be more than you can imagine. The heavens would end up in a war. There would be no place safe in this universe or any other. Chaos would rule.”

  Charlotte sucked in a breath and wished her hands weren’t trembling. “How do I stop him?” She clasped his hands. “Grandfather, you must help me. How do I stop him?”

  He slipped a silver ring pitted with a red stone on her index finger. She watched it shrink to fit.

  “It is called ga
lamite. It’s a Numí’s answer to silver. When you return to your cave, remove the ring and place it before you on the floor. Touch it with your index finger and utter the word torc. It will replicate twenty times. Do that as often as you need for all the Numí with you. Put it back on and let your powers do the rest.”

  “And what about Einar? How do I kill him?”

  “With tears, my precious one, but not just any tears. They have to be tears born of forgiveness and blessed by you.”

  “You’re crazy! I can’t forgive him. He killed Eric. He killed all those innocent people and creatures. He murdered the Edryd right in front of me, and he wants to turn his captured Numí into shadowmorths. I’m forgiving, but Gramps, I’m sorry, I feel nothing for him especially forgiveness.”

  He cupped her chin in his hand. “Go back to your cave. Wake the Numí. Think about what I said. You may find when faced with the battle we are about to enter, your heart and mind will change.”

  ***

  Charlotte startled awake, her face flat against the wet ground. Her cheek throbbed where Seyekrad had hit her. She touched her fingers to it and winced. Yeah, she had a bruise, and from the feel of it, a pretty big one. She pushed herself upright and pulled her hair over one shoulder.

  Her breath hitched in her chest. She held up her hand and studied the silver ring with the red stone. Her brow pinched together. Had she astral traveled without meaning to? It didn’t matter. Time was all that mattered. She had to restore the Numí again, and she had little time.

  She took off the ring, touched it with her finger, and said the word torc.

  The ring popped, and twenty rings popped forth. She put the original on and collected the rest, placing them on her cellmates. She retreated to her corner, not sure what would happen. Within moments, signs of life returned to their faces. Their bodies took on muscle and strength. Brown leathers embossed with green leafy emblems appeared. A warm sensation spread over her skin. She looked down as the same leathers wrapped around her, binding her, giving her strength. She stood and spread her arms out to her sides. Power surged into her, rising from the moist ground, casting her in golden light.

  A female approached. She bowed her head. “Thank you, mistress. Let’s prepare the others for battle.” She moved to the other side of the cage, touched a finger to each bar on her right and left, and bent them sideways until she could pass through. She glanced over her shoulder. “Make the rings.”

  Charlotte moved from cage to cage, repeating the process seven times until all the Numí were healed.

  The shadowmorths screeched and flew from the cave, no doubt to find their master. It wouldn’t be long before Einar returned.

  “We owe you a debt,” the first female said. “It shall not go unpaid.”

  “Don’t worry about it. Soon, all of this will be over. That will be payment enough. Right now, we need to bring this war to an end. Shall we?”

  Charlotte moved to the edge of the cave and peered through the waterfall. Thank you, Grandfather. Thank you.

  She stepped from the threshold of the cave …

  And soared across the sky.

  David

  Mangus and Trog careened into the crossroad sign. This time both vomited. David helped them to their feet and looked at Mangus with a smirk.

  “Dude, why did you get sick? You know how to do this.”

  “Your magic affects my human side,” Mangus explained. “I was able to ward it off the first time, but this time it got the best of me. The magic I possess is a bit more sophisticated and makes for a much smoother ride.”

  “I can still beat your ass to the ground,” Trog said.

  “Keep dreaming, old man,” Mangus said, patting Trog on the back. He glanced at the sign lying on the ground. “What do you think, Trog … Bybrook or Stonewater?”

  “I’m thinking Stonewater. The terrain’s flatter.”

  “Lots of open land, though. Go by the way of Bybrook, we can keep to the cover of the Gatworth Forest.”

  “They’ll be waiting for us. I say we go in the open. The way is shorter, less treacherous. We can make the shoreline by nightfall if lucky.”

  “Stonewater it is. Come on, lad.”

  David shushed them with his hand. Charlotte’s voice had slipped into his mind. He sat down on a boulder, clasped his hands together, and cried.

  Oh my God, Char, are you all right? Where are you?

  I’m all right. Heading into war. Where are you?

  On our way to Stonewater and then Volly. How are you able to speak to me? Where is Einar?

  I don’t know. Assembling his masses, I suppose. Are you still with Mangus?

  Yeah.

  Ask him if he’s spoken with Slavandria. I need to know what happened to King Thallan.

  David called out to Mangus. “I’ve got Charlotte parked in my head. She wants to know if you know anything about King Thallan.”

  “Slavandria informed me earlier he and the Seelie King are both dead. The fae and elves are at war. Slavandria is trying to fix it, make them understand it was Einar.”

  David repeated the information to Charlotte.

  She answered back. David, you have to go home. You have to go to Havendale. I have a bad feeling that Einar is about to do something horrible. You need to find Aldamar. He needs to be prepared. Oh, and we need air power. Lots of it. Daddy said he was going to do what he could, which means, knowing my dad, there are a crap load of air force planes ready to take off in an instant.

  What if there isn’t?

  Trust me. If Daddy says he’ll try, that means he did it.

  What about the dragons?

  Einar killed them. All of them. I have no way to travel to the Jade Sea, and I don’t know where I can collect any more. You’ve got to go to Havendale. Get those stinking planes! I have to go. I love you.

  The connection ended. He looked at Mangus and Trog.

  “What?” the two men asked in unison.

  “Umm, it looks like I need to go to Havendale. I’ve been debating it for the last several days. Charlotte just confirmed what I knew I had to do all along. It’s time to be the paladin I’m supposed to be. There’s only so much I can do here. I need to get help. We need air power.”

  “We have dragons coming, don’t we?” Trog asked.

  David shook his head. “No. Einar killed them. However, I know where we can get some birds that will make him wish he’d never been born. You’ve got to trust me. I’ll catch up with you, later.”

  “How in the hell are you going to go home?” Trog asked. “You know how to make your own portal now?”

  “No, but I’ll figure it out. I’ll see you on the battlefield.”

  With a quick Accelero Silentium, David landed on his bedroom floor in the Elthorian Manor. He ripped the covers off the bed, opened the footlocker, and looked under the bed. “Where are you? I know I didn’t lose or use you.” He glanced up at the stand beside the door, his gaze falling upon a small, round stone resting on its surface. “There you are.” He plucked it up and threw it against the wall.

  As promised all those weeks ago, Twiller appeared.

  “Master David! You’re alive!” He waddled over and hugged David’s leg. “I have been worried sick about you, sir. I wanted to see you before I rejoined Jared at sea, but there was so much to do with Master Eric’s death, the burials … How have you been?”

  “I’m fine, Twiller. Look. I need you to transport me to Havendale. It’s urgent.”

  “Oh, I will get in much trouble if I leave Master Jared now. He’s about to engage in mage war. He needs me with him.”

  “No, no, you don’t understand. I don’t need you to stay. I only need you to send me home.”

  “But how will you return?”

  “Trust me. I’ve got it all planned out. Please, Twiller. Take me home.”

  Twiller eyed him suspiciously, then swirled his finger in the air. The room pulsed and shifted, the air moving and ex
panding. A portal formed, its insides jiggling like jelly.

  “There you go, Master David. A one-way portal to Havendale. I do expect you to return in one piece.”

  “Oh, I will, Twiller. Thank you and look for me in the skies.”

  David stepped through the portal.

  ***

  He crashed into the sofa in the living room, the one where he found Twiller for the first time. The same room he was transported from. It never felt so good to be home.

  He ran from the room yelling Lily’s name. She emerged from the library and took him in her arms.

  “Oh my God, Lily. It’s coming. The war is coming. Charlotte mind-weaved with me. Einar is Prince Venniver or vice versa. Either way he is going to do something outlandish. She told me to inform Aldamar. I have to get to the planes. The war. It’s here, I mean, it’s there. Everyone is converging on Volly. Even Jared. He’s expected to reach the shores tonight.”

  Lily cupped his face in her hands. “David. Calm down. What do you need? How did you get here?”

  “Twiller. And I need planes and Charlotte’s father.”

  “Okay. Take a deep breath and sit down. Let me text him, okay?”

  She pulled her cell phone out of her jeans pocket and sent her fingers flying over the keyboard. A second later, she got a response.

  Mr. Stine: BE RIGHT THERE.

  It was the longest minutes David ever had. The knock on the front door sent his nerves scattering.

  Breathe. Just breathe.

  Lily admitted Mr. Stine in the room. He embraced David and shed a few tears.

  “You are a sight for sore eyes,” he said, “but you’re missing someone. Where’s my daughter?”

  “She’s fine. She’s taking care of something in Fallhollow. Mr. Stine, I need to know. Were you able to get the planes? Please tell me you got the planes.”