by GARY DARBY
“C’mon,” I pull at Cara and head toward Snag. As we rush up, I question, “Snag? What is it?”
The big demon breathes in through his nose and lets it out slowly. “Old acquaintances,” he growls, “and definitely not friends.”
He raises his lance and points. “Look there.”
Cara and I both turn and peer in the direction where he’s pointing. A moment later, both Cara and I take a step forward with Cara muttering, “Wha . . .”
Through a break in the trees, on what looks like a large, distant hill come intermittent flashes of light as if someone lights a torch in one spot, puts it out, and lights it again a moment later in another place.
As the rest of the company rushes up, I ask Snag, “Do you know what’s going on? What’s happening over there?”
Snag shrugs one shoulder. “To my eye a battle of some sort.”
“Do you know who’s fighting whom?” Alonya demands.
“From what I smell on the breeze,” Snag replies, his mouth turning down in a scowl of disgust, “I can tell you for a certainty who is on one side but not the other.”
“And who might that be?” Phigby questions.
“The Blackguards and their infernal Hund der Helvete,” Snag snarls.
“Hund der what?” Amil sputters.
“It’s from the Gaelian,” Phigby returns, “it means the Hounds of Hades, or as some call them, the Devil Dogs, or Fire Hounds.”
Phigby’s face turns hard, his eyes narrow. “Nasty creatures, no matter the name.”
“And these Blackguards?” Tavin asks.
Over his shoulder, Snag answers, “Their keepers. Demons like myself, only without the wings and with curved horns instead of these straight little pips that I sport.”
“Sounds a little like those Grimtaurs we faced,” I say.
Snag shakes his head a bit. “Grimtaurs are smaller and don’t have goat’s heads or horns that curve around several times.”
“You mean like ram horns?” Amil sputters.
“Yes,” Snag nods, “and shoot fireballs. Put them together with the Fire Hounds and they make for a nasty pair to deal with.”
“Are they from the Lost Forest?” Pim asks. “Is that how you know of them?”
“No,” Snag replies, “they’re not from the Lost Forest. Once, like me, they were of the upper world, then they were thrown down into the netherworld and became the hounds’ wardens.”
“And, uh,” Amil questions, “the reason these dogs are called Fire Hounds?”
“Because,” Snag answers, “as their name implies they can spew fire from their mouths and if they scratch or rip at you with their claws it sears the skin as if someone had taken a flaming poker and ran it across your body.”
“Lovely, just lovely,” Cara groans.
“If they can spew fire,” Alonya asks Snag, “can fire hurt them?”
“Like our dragons,” Snag answers, “their fire is on the inside, not outside. They are as vulnerable to fire as we are.”
“Good,” Alonya nods, “then we have more than just our weapons to use against them.”
Tavin turns to Phigby. “Are these Blackguards and their hounds more of Vay’s work? She unleashed them from the underworld?”
“Undoubtedly,” he grunts, “but the question is whom are they fighting and why?’
“Does it matter?” I question. “If they’re battling Vay’s minions I say we go help them, no matter who they might be.”
Without waiting for an answer, I march away, sheathing Galondraig as I hurry toward Golden Wind.
I’m almost there when I hear footsteps next to me and glance over. “I take it you’re not taking no for an answer?” Cara presses.
“The golden says we need to go,” I reply.
“Well, I hope she knows what we’re up against, I’m not sure the rest of us do. Descriptions are one thing, meeting the real thing quite another.”
“Maybe. But if Golden Wind tells me we’re going—”
“We’re going,” she finishes.
“Yes,” I answer.
With that, Cara breaks off and heads toward Wind Song. I whistle for Scamper only to see the fur ball’s head pop up on Golden Wind. I listen to his chittering as I climb up to the golden’s neck saddle and settle in.
“You’re right,” I answer him, “we should already be on our way and yes, there are times when we do too much talking and not enough doing. We’ll have to work on that. Now, are you ready?”
He squirms around, puts his paws on the golden’s carapace ridge and wiggles his little tail several times. “I take that as a yes,” I grunt as I snug my scabbard and tunic down. I turn just a bit and call out, “Dazzle, Ember, Twinkle! Go find the pixies, we’re going to need you three in this fight, too.”
The little sprite dragons launch themselves off the golden’s back and swiftly wing toward Regal where the pixies wait. After seeing them off, I swing back around and order, “All right, Golden Wind, we’re ready, sky!”
The golden spreads her wings, crouches just a little and then springs into the air. We spurt upward for a short bit before I glance behind. One by one, the company is taking to the air with Talia on her sea-dragon, Wave Rider, last to rise into the night sky.
“We’re all aloft,” I call to the golden, “let’s go.”
To my surprise, however, instead of heading directly toward the hill and the strings of flame that flare here and there, the golden arcs swiftly to the left. Before I can ask why, she says, “There is just the chance that they heavily outnumber us, so we’ll come at them from behind. Having the element of surprise on our side would be a good thing, no?”
“Definitely, yes,” I reply. “Was Snag right? Do we face what he called the Blackguards and Devil Dogs?”
“Definitely, yes,” she answers.
“And who are they fighting?”
“Long-lost friends of a friend,” she replies.
“If that’s supposed to mean anything to me, sorry, but it doesn’t.”
“It will soon enough. Now, get ready, they’re just ahead.”
I slip Galondraig out of its scabbard and at hearing wingbeats nearby turn to find Cara and Wind Song on the golden’s right and Helmar and Wind Glory to my left. Slightly behind and spread out are the rest of the company. I raise Galondraig high and whip it in a circle before pointing it straight ahead, signaling to get ready.
In answer, my comrades raise their weapons before hunkering down low on their dragons, their faces grim with determination.
Strings of fire, like fiery ribbons cut through the trees directly ahead and where they flare I instantly see a four-legged vision of pure terror. Long, lithe, muscled dogs, their leatherlike skin the color of night sprint through the forest. Tongues of fire shoot out of their mouths and their eyes burn like flickering embers. Where their paws hit the ground it’s as if pieces of flint strike together shooting out sparks to each side.
Running alongside on cloven hooves are Snag’s Blackguard demons, their scarlet skin and horned skulls made even more striking by the hounds’ fire as it lights up the night. In one clawed hand, they grasp long, thin black whips that crack fire when the Blackguards pop them over the hounds’ heads. In their other claw, the Blackguards hold onto chains that lead to tight neck collars on the Devil Dogs.
Together the Fire Hounds and the Blackguards make a fearsome duo and the air is filled with the shrill yapping of the fiendish hounds and the Blackguard’s bellowing. But ever so slightly, I pick up the sound of arrows flitting between the trees. Whomever the brutes are attacking is fighting back and here and there lie the bodies of a hound or demon, sometimes both.
However, from what I can tell, the arrows are few and the demons and their dogs are many, which bodes ill for whoever fights from the hilltop.
As we close in on the sprinting terror, I raise Galondraig high, hold it there for several moments more and then whip it downward at our enemy, yelling out, “Dragon fire!”
The night
abruptly turns as bright as day as our dragons unleash their fire on the unsuspecting dogs and demons. The dragons hover in place, raking the forest in a long flaming line. Treetops explode in shades of yellow and red embers that trail off across the sky, showering the creatures below in chunks of fire.
Where the dragon breath directly catches the beasts, their triumphant yipping and bellowing of before now turns into shrieks and screams of panic and pain. Soon, the burning tree line presents a wall of hot flames between the fiendish attackers and their foe. Hound and keeper try to breach the curtain of fire, but the scorching heat drives them back.
From one side come three bouncing balls of fire, the sprites with the pixies on board. They seem to bound off hound and keeper bodies left and right, each searing touch bringing shrieks of anguish. Their glancing blows add to the mayhem until the scene below me turns into sheer chaos. Hounds and keepers are in a crazed stampede trying to escape the roaring inferno. Some of the demons, their skin and horns afire, beat at the searing flames, trying to put them out as they stagger through the blazing trees.
Arrows zip through the reddened sky as our archers take aim and bring down even more of the brutes. From the shadowy forest a flight of arrows streaks through the blaze and still more hounds and their masters fall dead.
Off to one side, away from the inferno, I catch sudden movement as if a black tide rolled up the hillside. “Cara! Helmar!” I yell to my nearest companions. “Over there!”
Golden Wind immediately slips to the left and we speed toward the rush of hounds and demons. We pick up even more speed until the wind whips at my face.
“Hold on, Hooper!” the golden calls and I push Scamper down as I latch onto one of her horns. The golden makes a screaming turn right over the jumble of boulders and rocks that make up the hill’s rocky top, flares her wings bringing us to a jolting halt, and sprays dragon fire.
Her dragon breath is a wall of flame that rolls over the hounds and their keepers turning them into fiery pillars, a forest of burning bodies. However, those that survive the golden’s fire press forward. Directly below me I can see figures among the rocks, some fighting with swords, some with bows.
Though they’re taking a toll, the enemy is cutting into their numbers too. “Get me down there!” I order the golden. We drop like a rock and at the last instant, Golden Wind flares her wings and we land with a hard thump!
With her talons, she catches several foolish hounds who didn’t get away soon enough and their yips of pain quickly turn into death rattles as her talons rip through their lithe bodies.
As I slide off to one side, Golden Wind whirls around to battle a score of snarling hounds and bellowing demons on the other. I can’t help her for as soon as I hit the ground, I have a devil dog snapping at my throat. A slashing blow leaves him headless but now I have his keeper to contend with. The demon snaps his whip at me but a quick backhand from Galondraig and the fiery cord is cut in half.
The fiend tries to belt me with its chain but just as it raises the links an arrow from the darkness catches it in one eye and with a shriek it crumples to writhe on the ground before going lifeless and still.
At familiar running footsteps, I raise Galondraig in salute to Cara. “Thanks. Nice shot.”
“You’re welcome,” she replies as she puts her back to mine and unleashes another arrow that finds its mark and another demon goes down.
“We need to help Golden Wind,” I state, “she was fighting a dozen or so alone.”
“Not anymore,” Cara answers. “She and Wind Song are handling them.”
“Good,” I respond and point with Galondraig. “In the rocks, whoever’s left is in there.”
We no sooner take a step than several Fire Hounds charge around a nearby boulder right at us. An arrow from Cara takes care of one, a second shaft from an unknown archer takes down a second, and as the third leaps at us, I push Cara down and take the dog full on the tip of Galondraig.
The hound crashes into me, pounding me into the ground and for a moment, I lie dazed, the smell of sulfur and blood washing over me. Two pairs of hands pull the monsters off me as Helmar and Cara help me up.
“You all right?” he asks.
“I will be,” I answer, “and soon as the world stops spinning.”
I catch my breath and point with my blade. “C’mon, we need to get to the rocks. Whoever’s in there is in trouble.”
The three of us make a dash for some nearby boulders but once behind the rocks we find that further on, it’s a dark maze. “We’re not going to be able to tell friend from foe in here,” Cara asserts.
“Not only that,” I reply, “but in this darkness, one of those hounds could creep right up to us and we’d never see the thing.”
My hand grips Galondraig a little tighter. “I could call up Galondraig’s light, but that would mean—”
“No.” Cara’s response is sharp and hard. “I’d rather deal with the hounds.”
“Don’t forget their demon keepers,” Helmar rasps out.
“Them too,” Cara spits out.
“What we need is a—” I begin but stop as I raise a hand and point at a small, bobbing, weaving blob of light that’s headed in our direction.
I snort and half-laugh, “That can only be Sim on Twinkle. No straight line for those two.”
Moments later, the little sprite and her pixie rider are hovering over us. “Where are the others?” I call up.
“They be along by and by,” Sim answers. “Still chasing nasty doggies and demons off.”
“Still chasing . . .” Helmar begins before he ducks back around the rocks and after a moment reappears. “He’s right. From what I can see the hounds and Blackguards are stampeding out of here.”
The three of us scoot beyond the rocks and in the glare of the forest fire see the remnants of the Blackguards and their hounds fleeing. “Whew,” Cara sighs, “am I glad to see that. I did not want to have to fight those things in these rocks.”
“That makes two of us,” I respond.
“Hooper,” Helmar says thoughtfully as he gestures off to the side where the inferno is heaviest, “that fire is going to keep spreading, right up this hill.”
“You’re right,” Cara responds in a concerned voice. “There’s enough trees and fallen logs that it’ll feed the fire right over the crest. Whoever’s up here could get caught in the blaze.”
I turn and peer back down the hillside. “Wasn’t there a stream at the base of the hill?”
“Yes,” Cara returns, “but not an especially big one.”
“For what I have in mind,” I answer, “I don’t think it has to be.”
At the sound of dragon wings I lift my head to see the company winging our way. Within moments, they’re all down and I hurry over to where Talia starts to slip off Wave Rider.
“Talia!” I call out, pointing downhill to where a small creek rushes along at the base of the hill. “That stream, can you use it to put out the fire? There’s a chance it could roll over this hill and we don’t want that to happen.”
Talia first eyes the rivulet and then the roaring fire that’s beating our way. “Maybe,” she answers, “if I can draw up enough water.”
She turns back to her dragon and a moment later is aloft. I call out, “Alonya! Amil! Let’s provide a watch over her while she works. We don’t want anyone, or anything sneaking up on her while she’s concentrating on putting out the fire.”
It doesn’t take long before Alonya on Regal Wind, Amil on Wind Glow, and I on Golden Wind take up positions in a rough triangle to guard Talia while she’s on the ground.
The young MerDraken slides off Wave Rider and strides over to the glimmering stream. For a moment, she holds her power trident, Wave Master, above her head before with a slashing jab she thrusts it into the flowing creek.
Instantly, the brook’s water leaps out of its streambed and curves up into the air. It first flows high above the burning trees and then begins to spread out until it looks like a wide,
silver ribbon floating high in the sky.
Talia keeps her trident in the creek, sucking up more and more water from upstream until the silvery band completely covers the part of the forest that burns. Then, she jerks her trident out of the water and with a whoosh the shimmering curtain collapses. A torrent of water rains from the sky, drenching the trees and the scorched ground—and us.
It only takes a few moments before the last fire is out and all that is left is charred tree stumps, soggy black soot and ash, while curling wafts of dark smoke rise into the night air.
As we rejoin the company near the crown of boulders on the hilltop, Amil is grousing as he wipes away water from his glistening, bald head. “Talia, at least you could have warned us before you opened up the heavens, now I’m totally drenched.”
“I’m sorry, Amil,” Talia replies. “I keep forgetting that not everyone likes to be wet like us MerDraken.”
“Oh, I don’t mind being wet,” Amil responds, “I just prefer the time and place to be of my choosing and especially with warmer water than a cold mountain stream.”
I laugh a little and nod to Talia, “Nice job, Talia.”
Phigby motions to the rocks. “Let’s pair up and comb the rocks for any survivors and the rest do a sweep around the hillside. We’ll leave the dragons here and use them as our rendezvous point.”
Cara and I, along with Helmar and Amil take the rocks while the rest start scouting the hillside. I have Twinkle stay with us and send the other two sprites with the rest of the company.
Even before we start, we’ve seen several bodies that look like Drachs lying nearby along with Blackguard and hound corpses that litter the hillside. And without seeing any movement or hearing any hails from anyone we assume that we’ll find no living.
As we edge cautiously into the rocklike fortress, Cara and Helmar notch arrows while Amil holds his great ax at the ready and I slide Galondraig out of its scabbard. I motion for Sim to take Twinkle higher so that her light casts a greater circle.
Most of the craggy boulders are shoulder- to head-high to me with a few smaller ones interspersed among the bigger rocks. That anyone or anything could hide behind the larger stones sets me on edge and I whisper, “Let’s go slow, no telling what could be lurking behind these boulders.”