While Gerard lay gasping and dying on his side, Pael, with only a dismissive wave of his hand, summoned a gale-force blast of wind. The air shot through the wormhole with a fury, and swept around the dragon’s lair like a tornado. Every bone, animal skin, and piece of debris that wasn’t embedded in the rock, or piled in a corner, was caught up in it. Even the dragon’s nest rattled, and fell apart into the twister. The remaining egg fell to the smooth floor, with a thumping crack. The whirlwind of bones and skins rode the thrust of Pael’s magical force around the lair a few more moments, then shot down the wormhole, and out into the sky. All at once, the cavern was silent, save for Gerard’s ragged breathing.
Pael sat the gnarled old staff down among the larger pieces of stone at the edge of the lair’s opening. He knew it was a slight risk to open the Seal before Shaella had collared the dragon, but it was too late to wait now. He had already mortally wounded the boy. It was only a matter of time before he bled out.
Without further hesitation, he strode over to where Gerard lay and dragged him by the feet into the center of the rune circle that was etched into the floor. A wide swathe of glossy crimson marked the path. Gerard’s blood was flowing freely from around Pael’s dagger blade, but it wasn’t pooling on the floor. Instead, it found its way into the grooves of the carvings, and began to chase the path they created. It took only moments for the center rune, and the circle around it, to be clearly lined in glistening red.
Pael was intensely concentrating on his task. He took a tapered vial out of his black robe and poured its bright green contents into the outermost ring of the symbol, and a little more into the next ring. When the vial was empty, he tossed it away, letting it crash and shatter on the back wall of the lair.
The green liquid took on a luminous quality as it oozed through the grooves and filled the runes between the two outer rings, just as Gerard’s life blood had filled the inner ones. Then, like a blaze catching on oil spilled over water, the green stuff ignited. A shin-high emerald blaze worked its way around the runes until both outer rings, and the symbols marked between them, were alive and dancing with green fire.
“Yes,” Pael hissed wickedly under his breath.
He stepped over the magical emerald fire into the area it surrounded. He had to hurry now. He had to have the Seal open while the last of the sacrifice’s blood was leaving his body. It was the only way the mighty spectral demon would come out of the Nethers bound to Pael’s will. With only the slightest of missteps, Shokin could come out free to do his own bidding. As glorious as the destruction would be in that case, Pael wouldn’t have any control over the demon. He had to have control of that great power. It was what he had come for, what he had been planning and scheming to attain, because with the demon’s might at his beckoning, taking the even greater power of the Wardstone away from Willa the Witch Queen would be easy.
Pael raised his arms up high, and started his low mumbling chant. It was a summoning spell, similar to the one he used to activate the Spectral Orb up in his tower. The only difference was that this chant contained subtle binding phrases. As in the tower, he began pacing slowly around the center of the symbol. Gerard’s dying body laid there, the slight rise and fall of his chest, as his body continued to pull and push air from his lungs, while his blood pumped slowly away, showed that he wasn’t quite dead yet.
With each pass around the body, Pael’s chants grew stronger and clearer, until they became rhythmic and musical. He was almost there. It was perfect.
Gerard felt his life pulsing slowly out of him. With each heartbeat, another jet of hot, liquid life leaked down his chest. He could see the evil wizard, and the green flames dancing around him, and he could hear the dark song that was being sung. He even felt the world around him, alive as it was with crackling static, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t seem to move. The dragon’s egg in his pack kept him from rolling onto his back, and the dagger sticking out of his chest, kept him from rolling forward. His arms felt like they were made of jelly. A powerful thump from underneath him sent his feeble heart sputtering.
Gouts of blood flowed now. It seemed as if something deep within the spire had hammered the rock a few feet under his body. Again, it struck, and the shockwave of the concussion nearly lifted him off of the floor. He tried to swallow. The world around him was starting to fade.
The jolting blow came again, but this time, the sound abruptly stopped mid-bang. He blinked his eyes, not sure he was seeing correctly, but when he looked down again, he found that his eyes were not deceiving him. The floor had vanished and he was suspended in midair over a large circular pit. Dark things, both small and large, were rushing up at him as if they were chasing their last meal. Around the walls of the pit, a staircase spiraled down into the seemingly endless blackness. A few of the dark things, a winged panther as black as night, and a pair of dark scaly beasts swept past him. As life began to fade from him completely, his mind caught on a scratchy old female’s voice speaking to him from far away.
“You’ll find the power to control legions in its depths,” said the old crone.
Maybe she hadn’t been a crackpot after all, Gerard thought hopelessly. So close to that destiny, yet so far away. Nothing could save him, he was beyond help now. He was about to close his eyes and die, when he remembered the ring on his finger.
Pael hadn’t expected the lesser devils and demons to come flying up out of the darkness, but they had. The ones that had cleared the mouth of the pit had actually been fleeing Shokin’s approach. The freedom they had just gained from their hellish prison was a thing of sheer luck. Shokin was at the opening now, and none of the dark things, not even the other demons, dared to get close to him. Had the Abbadon, the King of the Nethers himself, bothered to come up out of the depths of the lower planes, even he might’ve shied away from Shokin’s determined rage.
The evil that Shokin was radiating at the moment was so focused and raw that it made the blackness around him seem like daylight. He was about to come back out into the world that Pavreal had banished him from, and he wanted nothing less than vengeance. Nothing from the Nether World seemed brave enough to test his wrath, but in the world above, there was Pael. With lustful excitement, and nothing less than violent intention, more shadowy shape, than physical form, the ancient spectral demon began climbing up out of his blackened prison into the world of men.
Shaella was about to pull what hairs she had left out of her head by the fist-full. All of the conceding and self-convincing she had done, all the grim realizations that she would sacrifice Gerard for the sake of her own plans, had been premature. The moment that she achieved her goal with the dragon, she was going to try to save Gerard from Pael. She hoped that she could get to him quickly enough.
Thankfully, Pael had said that he wouldn’t even approach the Seal until she had the dragon collared. Without the egg, she couldn’t collar the dragon, so it wasn’t a race yet. She wanted so badly to have Gerard, complete her objectives, and satisfy Pael. She wanted it all.
She screamed out in frustration, and hacked at the corpse of one of her Zardmen with her sword. No sooner had the scream died out, then she turn to see Cole hurrying toward her with the precious dragon’s egg cradled in his arms. She didn’t even allow herself to feel the wave of relief that washed over her. Instead, she recklessly started off towards the dragon.
“Follow me!” she commanded over her shoulder.
After all the time he had wasted trying to find a dry place to stand, and transported himself back to her, Cole didn’t dare argue. It turned out that he hadn’t planned all that carefully after all. He hadn’t considered the ocean’s tides. While he had been busy getting the egg, the tide had risen, and submerged his island. He had to row himself nearly a mile, before he found a suitable place to teleport himself back to Shaella.
As they passed one of the Zard captains, a Sarzard as they were called, Shaella barked an order so harshly, that Cole nearly fumbled the egg.
“Bring the col
lar! NOW!” She yelled.
Wisely, the Sarzard didn’t waste time with any sort of formalities. His only response was a quick, “Yes Masteress,” as he darted off to do as she had bidden him.
Without any fear or hesitation, she stalked purposefully to a place between the dragon and its newest meal. The dragon’s head was raised, and it was chugging a chunk of geka meat the size of both she and Cole put together, down its gullet. But that didn’t seem to faze her. Cole, on the other hand, was terrified. But he wasn’t sure who he was more afraid of. Shaella, at the moment, seemed far more fierce and determined than the dragon.
“Set the egg down before me,” she commanded.
When Cole had done so, she finished giving him his order.
“Go! Help get the collar ready.”
Then, up to the dragon she screamed with all the urgent fury she could muster. It was no small amount.
“You have a choice! Hey you, Dragon bitch!” She waved her sword in the air, until the dragon stopped chewing, and eyed her. “Look! Look at what I’ve got!” She reached down, and touched the dragon’s egg with the tip of her glowing blade.
Hissing sharply, the dragon brought her head down with a quickness that was unnerving. The potion-wrought haze in her huge, amber eyes seemed to fade as her sense of alarm grew.
Shaella had to master herself. She wanted to do nothing other than turn and run as the great beast’s red-plated head loomed in close to her. The black slits in the dragon’s eyes were as long as Shaella was tall. Its bloody teeth were just as big, and as sharp, as swords. A piece of geka meat, that weighed easily as much as Shaella did, hung loosely from between two of those teeth. Heat coming from cavernous nostrils, big enough to walk into, blew her hair back like a strong wind might. The smell of its breath was sulfurous and rotten, like burnt steel and spoiled meat. Had it not been for the hope that she could still save Gerard, she thought she might crumble in her tracks.
“I have no time to waste with you, dragon,” she forced herself to say. “Either you will put on a collar, or all of your hatchlings will be born into one.”
The dragon’s plated brows narrowed between the trunks of her curving yellowed horns. Angrily, she reared back and began sucking in a vast lungful of air. Her intension was obvious. Shaella had to hold the hair back from the left side of her face, as it was being sucked back towards those massive nostrils. The dragon’s flames wouldn’t harm the egg, Shaella knew. Dragon’s used flame to incubate and hatch them. She had to speak quickly and loudly, and make sure the dragon understood.
“You might burn me to ashes, bitch! You’ll save this egg, but what about the others?” She paused, letting her bluff sink in. Pael had told her that there were three eggs. She hoped that he had been correct. “If you even try to burn me, they will be smashed to bits!”
The dragon paused, flames swirling in her big eyes, her expression overflowing with hatred and anger.
“If you refuse, then I’ll ruin this egg while you roast me!” Shaella threatened. The point of her sword rested on the egg at her feet. All it would take was a firm push to render the egg unhatchable.
“Then the Pact hasss been broken?” the dragon asked.
The thunderous hissing voice was more in Shaella’s head than anywhere else, and the sound of it was full of confused malice. When Shaella nodded that the Pact had indeed been broken, the dragon raised her head, and roared out to the heavens. The earth shook as a tower of flame shot up into the clouds. As angry as the dragon was, it knew it was beaten. Shaella knew it too. The curse of all maternal creatures had trapped the mighty beast. Her natural born instinct to protect her young allowed her only one choice in the matter.
“Bring the collar!” Shaella called out urgently.
Chapter 30
Shokin was halfway out of the Seal, held there by the binding words in the wizard’s wicked song. Pael shivered with glee. The spectral demon hadn’t expected to be bound.
With a deep, growling rumble of respect it accepted this condition of its release into the world. It knew that it could find a way to unbind itself later. The wizard Pael wasn’t as powerful as he liked to think he was. Eventually, Shokin could get rid of him. For now, the important thing was to escape the Nethers, even if it meant pledging his service to Pael.
Shokin had been trapped in the black nothingness for far too long to quibble over technicalities, not when he was this close to freedom. He wanted vengeance on he who had banished him. He had sworn it, and if he wanted to vent his wrath on Pavreal’s ancestors then, for now, he had to grant the wizard Pael his boon. He would lower himself to serve Pael for a time. After all, it was only temporary, and the wizard had worked very hard to get the Seal open for him. Yes, he would accept Pael’s binding. For now, he would obey without hesitation.
Pael’s voice was like a distant macabre chorus howling in Gerard’s ears. He had had a thought, a hope, for a fleeting moment, but it slid from his mind when the icy cold, ghost-like form of the demon rose up through him.
Its evil had filled him for a moment, was filling him again. With each pulse of his dying heart, a little more of himself was forced away. It wouldn’t be long now. His life blood was nearly gone. He wondered absently about what had changed the future that the old fortune-teller had seen. Shaella was too close to him to have betrayed him, and Gerard didn’t think she had. He was supposed to be brokenhearted, and climbing down the steps underneath him to seek out some great power. The seer had almost seen the right future, but not completely. He had to admit that he was glad Shaella hadn’t betrayed him. In a strange way, that would have been worse than this. He could face death. He would rather die than feel his heart crushed by the woman he loved. The old crone had gotten part of it right. He had known and felt true love. What else had the woman said? He had been thinking of it only moments ago when he was climbing up the Dragon Spire, but now the train of thought eluded him. He forced open his eyes, hoping that he might be able to see the thought lurking in the dragon’s lair somewhere, as if it were some tangible thing.
It took some time for his eyes to work. The world was a collage of blurring splotches, but it all slowly came back into focus: green flames dancing crazily, spittle flying from the black robed, egg-headed sorcerer’s mouth, as he chanted and circled. Then the light of the cavern suddenly blacked out, eclipsed by some huge, glittering scarlet thing. Then – then he saw Shaella.
“NOOO!” she screamed, as she slid down the side of the newly collared dragon’s neck. Her heart hammered at the sight before her.
“HELP ME!” a terrified voice called out.
One of the deckhands, from the barge they had pirated, was clutched gingerly in the dragon’s jaws.
“OH! PLEA –” His voice stopped abruptly, as the dragon gave him a warning squeeze with her teeth.
“Stop it!” screamed Shaella. “I have your sacrifice right here!”
She stormed over towards the ring of flames, pulling her sword from its sheath as she came. Around her neck, was a collar similar to the one she had put on the dragon. It linked her to the beast, and her anger caused the dragon to let out a low, rumbling growl, which made the cavern tremble.
When she was close enough to see Gerard, she froze. There was so much blood. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing. She had just left a feeding ground full of gore that was strewn with dozens of dragon-torn bodies, but she was still shocked. How could Pael have done this? He was supposed to have waited until the dragon was collared. She had promised him a sacrifice, but she hadn’t wanted it to be Gerard. It felt like her heart was being squeezed by some giant icy cold fist. Why hadn’t Pael waited? She had his offering clutched there in the dragon’s jaws. Oh, Gerard!
Her rage at the wizard melted away as she met Gerard’s eyes. His eyelids were fluttering closed. He was so gaunt, and sickly looking, so close to death. She looked back at the wizard, and was about to make a plea for the life of the man she loved, but Pael’s expression sent a tidal wave of fear and anger washing ov
er her.
The dragon dropped the trembling deckhand to the cavern floor and loomed in close behind Shaella, ready to attack at her command.
As Pael came around the circle he was pacing, still singing his binding, and still entranced in his ritual. Shaella charged him with her sword held high. The outer ring of flames leapt up like a shimmering emerald wall before her. The power radiating from them gave a clear warning. Unlike regular fire, demon fire would burn her flesh for ages. As angry, and as scared for Gerard as she was, she dared not passed through those flames.
“I hate you!” she screamed at the wizard. Then, she broke down, and fell to her knees, letting her sword clatter to the floor beside her. She put her face in her hands and cried for Gerard. It was all she could do.
Gerard heard her sobbing voice through the exotic symphony that Pael’s spell had created around him. She had truly loved him, she was truly sorry, she hadn’t meant for any of this to happen. Had she somehow betrayed him? He wondered. It seemed more as though the wizard had betrayed her. Gerard wanted nothing more than to run to her and comfort her in his arms. He wanted to tell her that everything was going to be all right, even though he knew that it wasn’t. He didn’t even have the strength left to open his eyelids. The coldness of the black thing was moving through him again.
“Oh, Shaella, I loved you,” he rasped, as the last drop of his life blood ran down his chest. I don’t want to die. Please don’t let me die! Were the only thoughts he could manage to think, as death’s maw finally closed over him.
Pael had almost lost his grip on the complex strands of magic he was weaving when Shaella had arrived. The dragon had startled him too. In the back of his mind, he remembered that he had started this even before the dragon had been collared. If Shaella had somehow failed him, the dragon could’ve returned and ruined everything. He had placed total faith in Shaella’s abilities, and she had come through.
The Sword and the Dragon (The Wardstone Trilogy Book One) Page 32