In the Shadow of the Dragon King

Home > Other > In the Shadow of the Dragon King > Page 27
In the Shadow of the Dragon King Page 27

by J. Keller Ford


  Beside him, Mirth roared. He lowered his head and popped open his scales and feathers while growling and pawing at the ground.

  “Whoa!” Charlotte said, her eyes wide. “What’s wrong with him? Why is he doing that?”

  “I don’t know! Mirith, what’s wrong?”

  The dragon’s voice yelled in his head. Seek cover. Now! Hide!

  “Why? What’s happening?”

  Mirith whipped around, his eyes glowing like hot coals, and lunged at him.

  Charlotte yelled for Trog as she ran toward David.

  “Get away from him!” she shouted at Mirith.

  Trog ran from the trees. “What?”

  A massive shadow passed overhead. A brisk wind swept the glade, bending the blades of grass.

  Charlotte’s face turned to the sky. “Oh … my … God.”

  Trog ran across the glade, the canteens flying into a thicket. He yanked David and Charlotte by their shirts and shoved. “Go! Both of you!”

  David found his feet, his nerve. He grabbed Charlotte’s hand, scooped up her bag, and ran. He all but threw her over a fallen tree and ducked down, his heart thud, thud, thudding.

  Mirith stood in the middle of the glade, his tail swishing, his neck flared out like that lizard that walks on water.

  The hiss of Trog’s sword leaving his scabbard rippled through David like fingernails across a chalkboard.

  Giant black wings twice as wide as a jumbo jet sliced through the air.

  David grabbed his bow and nocked an arrow.

  The shadow flew over again.

  Whoosh. Whoosh.

  “Good, God, did you see the scales on that thing? There’s no way your arrow will pierce that armor,” Charlotte said, “not unless you strap a bomb on the other end.”

  She was right. What was he thinking? His little arrow would just piss it off. David lowered his weapon, the scene before him playing out like a dream.

  Mirith crouched close to the ground. Trog stood nearby, his sword at his side. Two warriors. Bulging muscles. Both ready to fight, defend, and maybe die.

  Charlotte peered up at the sky, her hand shielding her eyes. “Where did he go?

  As if in answer, the beast circled again, his massive body blocking out the sun. With wings spread and talons open, he dove downward, grabbing the ground as he landed. Trees cracked from the weight of his wings. Chunks of earth plowed up beneath him.

  David sat still, paralyzed. Charlotte said something, but he didn’t hear. Nothing existed except for the creature before him.

  Was he black? Was he purple? The sheen on his scales hinted at both. He was at least ten stories high, the top of his head looming over the treetops. There was a sawtooth on the tip of his nose, horns on its head, and a mace at the tip of its long tail. Armored ridges framed his amber, snake-like eyes and he smelled of rotten eggs and sewer water. He lowered his neck and opened his mouth, exposing sharp, yellow teeth bigger than Trog.

  David tried to take a deep breath, but his lungs failed to expand. His chest grew tight, his throat closed up. He tried to look away, tried to blink, but he couldn’t. Charlotte grasped his hand. He could sense her touch, but he couldn’t feel it. He focused on the tiny dragon and the knight he’d once thought was bigger than life. Against Einar, they were nothing more than miniscule ants.

  You have such little faith, Mirith said. I may be small, but I have something he doesn’t have!

  What is that? David asked, his mind barely able to form the words.

  Heart! Mirith said, and with that he turned to his right, charged toward Trog with his head down, and knocked Trog across the glade into the brush a few feet from David.

  Charlotte yelled and scrambled over David. “Trog!”

  David broke from his trance and grabbed at Charlotte’s leg. “Stay down!”

  She kicked at him. “I have to see if he’s alright!”

  A blast of air, followed by a wall of heat slammed into David.

  Fire.

  The glade was on fire.

  David peeked over the log as Mirith expelled a long breathy roar. A ring of ice spread across the ground, covering the field.

  Einar screeched and hopped as if the cold burned his talons. He swished his tail and hammered the ice, exploding chunks into the air. His body rumbled, and the vibration traveled over the ground. He careened his long neck in David’s direction and opened his mouth. Flames billowed inside his throat.

  David scrambled toward Charlotte and muttered the only words that came to mind. “Ibidem Evanescere.”

  A crack of lightning filled the air.

  Einar elicited a plaintive cry. He whipped around, rage in his eyes, smoke billowing from his right haunch. Mirith smacked his tail against the ground then arched it over his back like a scorpion ready to strike.

  Einar’s slit-pupil eyes widened. He opened his mouth. Fire flicked between his teeth.

  Another electrifying bolt launched from Mirith’s tail across the glade, colliding with Einar’s jaw.

  The black dragon threw his head back and bellowed, fire blasting into the sky.

  Mirith flattened his feathers and quills and spun in circles, spinning so fast his body blurred. All at once, he stopped, opened his mouth, and shot copious amounts of water into the air, dousing the flames. Twice he did this until the flames were gone. Einar danced around the puddles, shrieking, electrical fingers zapping his feet. Mirith poised his tail and shot another bolt into the water at Einar’s feet.

  The black dragon wailed as the blast lifted him from the ground and blew him backwards.

  The ground shook.

  David thrust his fist in the air. “Yes!”

  Einar flicked his tongue and rolled to his feet. He snapped open his wings and took flight. He hung in the air like a kite, a graceful lump of pure destruction.

  David broke the invisibility spell and stood. “Mirith? Are you okay?”

  Stay back!

  David looked skyward. “What’s he doing?”

  The black dragon spiraled downward, his wings tucked.

  David’s breath came in short gasps.

  At the tree line, Einar spread his wings and swooped over the glade.

  David froze, unable to scream. Unable to do anything.

  The beast plucked Mirith from the ground and retreated to the sky.

  Anguish seized David, his mind filled with Mirith’s fear and pain.

  “No.” David shook his head, anger filling his core. “No! I won’t let you kill him!” He scurried to his bow, nocked an arrow and let it fly.

  It bounced off Einar’s snout like a feather off a ball.

  Einar flung Mirith’s limp body to the ground, and turned his gaze on David. Smoke drifted from his nostrils.

  Mirith’s agony. The fear of life slipping away. David felt it all. He clutched his stomach. Dropped to his knees.

  Einar screeched, ascended into the sky and disappeared.

  “No.” David cried. He got to his feet. Mirith was in pain. So much pain He rolled over the log. “Mirith. Talk to me.”

  Trog grabbed David around the chest and tossed him into the underbrush. “Wait, you fool.”

  “He’s not moving, Trog! I can’t hear him.”

  “Blast you, boy. Shut up and wait!”

  “No. He needs me.” Accelero Silentium!

  David dropped beside Mirith and stroked his neck. “Come on. Talk to me. Please.”

  Trog ran to him and yanked David up by the collar. “Get out of here!”

  “He’s not breathing. He’s—”

  Trog picked David up and threw him into the thicket. “The two of you, get your tails out of here. Go!”

  David looked at Mirith, his heart torn. Stay or go. There wasn’t time.

  Choose.

  Einar rose above the trees, the downdraft of his wings stirring up dried leaves and dirt.

  David grabbed Charlotte’s hand and bolted up the steep fores
t path. Talons scraped the thick canopy above, raining down branches and leaves.

  To the left. To the right. Trog guided them through the falling debris.

  Einar soared ahead, circled back around and dove straight for them. Trog grappled David and Charlotte to the ground and rolled out of the way as Einar unfurled his talons and grasped nothing but air.

  Trog stood, his right hand pressed to his left side, blood trickling over his fingers. “Go!” Trog yelled. A tree lay across their path. “Jump it! Don’t stop!”

  Charlotte’s eyes opened wide. “Trog! You’re bleeding!” She headed toward him.

  “No, Charlotte!” Trog stumbled toward her. “He’s coming back. You have to go. David! Take her. Get to the Field of Valnor, just over this ridge. He can’t hurt you there. Take the Haldorian bridge to Hirth. You’ll see Gyllen once you leave the forest. Ask for Farnsworth.”

  “But you’re hurt,” Charlotte said. “We can’t leave you here. He’ll get you!”

  “Better me than you, now go!”

  “But—”

  “Damn it, girl, stop your infernal arguing, and do as I tell you!”

  David grabbed her hand, his stare pinned on Trog. “We’ll come back for you, I promise.”

  They ran.

  Einar followed, bathing them in shadow.

  Charlotte resisted David’s pull. She slapped at his wrist and pushed at his arm. “Let go of me! Trog needs me!”

  She yanked her arm free and ran back toward Trog.

  “Charlotte!”

  “Go, David! I have to stay. I’m a healer. I can’t leave him to die.”

  She ran back toward the glen.

  Einar roared, switched back and sailed after her.

  “No. No, no, no, no!” David yelled. His gaze flicked between the dragon and Charlotte.

  One arrow after another whizzed from his bow, He waved his arms. “Hey! You! Over here! I’m who you want. I’m the paladin. Come get me if you can.”

  “David, what are you doing?” Trog shouted. “Get the hell out of here!” He pushed Charlotte in David’s direction.

  David shot an arrow, then another at the massive beast, but they might as well have been foam darts for all the damage they did.

  Einar whipped and turned. He soared toward David.

  “Yes. Come on! Come get me!”

  He ran up the path toward the field of Valnor, then veered to his right into the thick of the forest. He had to get the beast away from Charlotte. He had to give Trog time to get her to safety. Which meant going as far from Hirth as possible.

  He ran hard and fast, leaving his chances for freedom far behind, and, as he hoped, Einar followed. David raced through the woods, his legs hurdling him over one obstacle after another. Branches whipped across his arms and face, leaving behind ugly red welts. The forest writhed and twisted around him, confusing his path and sense of direction. His sides hurt, his throat was parched and his lungs emptied of breath. Overhead, Einar kept pace, the rush of his massive wings cutting the stillness of the air; his talons scraping leaves from the trees.

  David splashed across a wide stream, stumbled, then pulled himself to his feet; his weak legs somehow propelling him forward. Overhead, a legion of smoke-like creatures streamed from Einar’s wings and entered the forest. David looked up. “What in the hell are those?” His pulse raced.

  He ran. He could hear them closing in behind them, hissing and hacking their way through the trees. Einar’s talons brushed the canopy, snapping the trees. The sound of splintering wood ricocheted throughout the forest. David looked up at the broken branches plummeting toward him.

  “Oh, sh—” He took two running steps then slammed to the forest floor, his ankle ensnared by a contorted root. He watched in horror as the huge chunks of trees careened toward him. With a painful cry, he yanked his foot free of his boot and rolled away just as the timbers crashed where he had just been.

  David army-crawled into a patch of dense underbrush and curled into a ball on his side, and forced himself to become silent to the forest and everything within it. His ankle throbbed, his head buzzed. Flies landed on his face and arms and feasted on the crusts of blood. Every muscle felt torn and wrenched, and every exposed area of skin began to itch.

  David expelled a woeful sigh. What else could go wrong? Through the leafy green veil, he could see the moon rising in a purple sky. He heard the screech of an owl and saw the small bird wing its way from the forest just as Einar glided downward and dropped catlike onto his feet in the nearby clearing. Innumerable shadows emerged from the depths of the forest and converged on their master.

  David cast himself into invisibility and lay perfectly still as Einar fanned his giant wings then folded them across his spine. Through the thicket, he saw the twin horns jutting goat-like from the dragon’s forehead. Silver saliva dripped from the corners of the beast’s mouth. Each drop smoked and burned through the layers of ground cover. Einar lowered his head and stretched his neck into the forest’s edge, the hot breath from his nostrils snorting and turning the leaves on the forest floor. A deep hum like the purr of a cat rumbled from his belly. He swung his head in David’s direction until it hung only inches above David’s den, and sniffed.

  David held his breath. Go away, go away.

  Huge talons scratched away at the ground covering and threw it aside.

  David closed his eyes, his body trembling so fierce he was sure the ground shook with him.

  The last of the ground cover blanketing him, flicked out of the way. Large amber eyes stared down at him, but David’s reflection wasn’t there.

  Invisibility was a wonderful thing.

  Well, it would be if not for smell.

  Einar sniffed and snorted. His nostrils flared. His mouth opened.

  Teeth. So many big, sharp teeth.

  David closed his eyes, the words Accelero Silentium shouting in his head.

  Fanged jaws clamped down on a mouthful of brush where David lay a second before.

  Einar snarled and snapped. Stomped and growled. Shadowmorths swarmed everywhere, their clicking and hacking eating away at David’s sanity. David pressed his hands to his ears, praying the noise would end soon.

  Einar tossed his head back and released a long, single foghorn note. The shadowmorths flocked beneath his wings, and with two flaps, the giant beast took to the night sky.

  David tilted his head back.

  Relax.

  Breathe.

  In.

  Out.

  His body itched. Every square inch of it. A red, itchy rash covered his hands and his bare, swollen, bruised foot. With a few grunts and groans he stood and staggered toward the clearing. Tired and weak, he fell into the thick, cool grass and stared at the stars.

  Off in the distance, a girl screamed.

  David jolted straight up.

  Overhead, Einar passed before the moon, his talons curled tight. Long, flowing brown hair flipped in the wind. The color of chestnuts on a winter’s night.

  Charlotte.

  David stood and threw rocks at the beast. “No!! Let her go. It’s me you want. It’s me.”

  He dropped to his knees as the dragon flew away. His sobs gnarled his gut, turned it inside out.

  His name carried across the night sky in a single, long, excruciating note. He crumpled, his hands to his ears, and rocked back and forth. Tears fell. His heart ripped. Charlotte! No! No!

  Einar disappeared.

  David continued to rock.

  “Why? Why is she gone? Why didn’t Trog protect her? He was supposed to protect her. I was supposed to protect her.” He pounded the ground with his fist. “This is all my fault. Why did I hide like a coward?” His sobs choked his words. “I should have let him take me. I should have done what I said I would always do. I should have died for her.”

  Footsteps approached from behind, but he didn’t care. Let whomever it was take him. Punish him. Devour him. Charlotte—his firs
t and only love, his best friend—was gone. Nothing else mattered.

  Hands, thin as leaves, pressed his back and forehead. Warmth, peace, gentleness flowed like soothing liquid through his veins. He rolled onto his back and stared into the huge round eyes of a tall being as willowy as a spring sapling and as thin as a playing card. Literally. David blinked, his head pounding as hard as his heart. It had to be a dream.

  “Who—what—” David said.

  A soothing blackness enveloped him. He never finished his sentence.

  ***

  He woke upon a bed in a moonlit room cluttered with strange items. Braided vines hung from the rafters. Piles of river rocks and unusual stones, talons, and teeth, sat in bowls on weather-beaten shelves. Curious, he reached up and fingered the sloughed reptilian skins that hung like party streamers from the ceiling. A high-backed rocking chair stood in the corner, its seat badly in need of repair. David chuckled at the red-and-black inkblot paintings on the wall, and straightened their tilt. High on the windowsills were jars filled with animal bones and teeth, opal spires and amulets, sat upon the windowsill and stone table.

  Who the heck lives here?

  David startled upright at the knock on the door. He flung his legs over the edge and sat up as the paper-thin stranger entered carrying a wooden bowl and a mug resembling a short, hollowed out tree branch, complete with knots and leaves. He set them on a nearby round table, along with a lit candle, its yellow wax dripping like tears down its tapered form.

  “I have brought you nourishment. I figured you could do with some stickies on your insides. I have drawn you a warm bath. It awaits you at the end of the hall. Fresh clothes are on the chest at the foot of the bed. Take your time. When you are done, come downstairs. We have much to discuss.” The stranger turned to leave.

  “Wait.” David said. “Who are you? What are you?”

  The stranger flashed a mouth of paper-flat teeth. “My name is Finnegan Aginagin and I am a sestra, an emissary of the mages. You may call me Finn.”

  “You’re a what?”

  “Shh,” Finn said. “Eat, bathe, dress, and we’ll talk when you come downstairs.”

 

‹ Prev