“Invectis!” he said loudly, unable to hear his own voice over the groaning of the earth underneath him.
His skin tightened and felt cool and he glanced down at himself. A metallic coating had replaced his flesh and he felt some relief that the Steel Skin spell had actually worked. But he felt his energy drain at the same time and he knew that he was running out of time.
The dragon hadn't even noticed. It was looking at the ground beneath it with an almost comical expression of confusion, and then began to flap its wings, creating huge gusts of wind that nearly knocked Simon over.
“Don't let it take off!” the wizard muttered. “Please don't let it take off.”
And then the huge body began to sink into the grassy plain under its own enormous weight as if the earth had turned to quicksand. The primal's feet and legs were engulfed in sticky mud that started pulling it down.
“What!” it bellowed and flapped its wings even harder, trying to break free. “Stop that! How dare you try to hold me!”
It blasted the ground with gallons of acid; sticky liquid that covered the grass and sent clouds of dirty gray smoke billowing into the sky. It made no difference. The monster kept sinking.
Its belly touched the ground and the muddy surface rose up its sides, seemingly almost eager to embrace the dragon. It held its wings up high but could no longer flap them because the ground was now up to its chest. The hideous, twisted visage snapped at the mud and then withered it with a blast of flame.
But the earth was indifferent. It kept pulling the beast lower and lower until the dragon's wings were pushed up and plastered to its sides.
“Now, sir wizard,” a voice rumbled up from below.
“I know,” Simon muttered and began to chant. He'd never tried to do this before but, in theory, it should work. In theory.
He finished the incantation and felt the spell hovering around him, waiting for him to invoke it. But the wizard paused and stared at the primal, watching its desperate convulsions as it tried in vain to free itself.
Now most of the enormous body had sunk out of sight. All that was left were the tips of its wings and its neck and head. The single eye had finally taken on a look of panic and it thrashed and whipped in all directions, frantic as it was pulled under.
The primal suddenly stopped struggling and turned to looked directly at Simon.
“You did this, you insignificant little worm,” it screamed at him.
Simon shrugged.
“Actually I didn't,” he called back. “I'd say that the Earth itself has tired of you and your evil kind. Payback time, I guess.”
“I will get free,” the dragon hissed, dribbling streams of acid. “Burying me beneath the earth will not stop me for long. You seem to forget how powerful I truly am.”
It sunk lower and the wings disappeared entirely.
Time to make it truly angry, Simon thought with a shiver.
“Maybe you will, in time,” he yelled at it with a sneer. “But by then, the primal red will have taken over the entire Earth and you'll be seen by it and the gods as a dismal failure. You allowed your servants to be trapped in the elven plane and yourself to be captured underground. How will that look?”
The dragon's eye widened and it snarled and snapped at him.
One more little push, the wizard thought.
“Your great mother is going to be disgusted by you, isn't she?”
“How dare you!” it bellowed and the head reared back as far as it could, maw gaping. The primal dragon sucked in a tremendous breath and then it lurched forward to spew acid directly at its puny foe.
“Invectis!” Simon shouted and leaped to the side in a vain attempt to avoid the attack.
But the attack never came. He rolled over and pushed himself on to his hands and knees, looking at the thrashing head of the dragon. A head now enveloped in the strongest Shield spell that the wizard could cast.
The globe of distortion was so thick that it looked like frosted glass and it totally covered the primal's head. Inside, an enormous gout of acid was vomited out by the dragon, which seemed to have no way to stop its own attack. But instead of covering the wizard, it filled the round shield to the brim and made it look like the primal was wearing some sort of bizarre space helmet. A helmet filled with black, sticky acid.
The dragon slammed its head against the ground in its agony, as its own weapon began to dissolve its face, its jaws, its eye. Simon stood up shakily, leaning on his staff and trying not to collapse. His shield dissipated and his skin spell faded away and he stood there in the stinking wind that blew by the acid pools around the dragon and watch its head dissolve.
“Eat that, you bastard,” he whispered, too exhausted to even revel in his victory.
The shield didn't last; it couldn't contain that much acid for long. But then it didn't have to. A few minutes later, it disappeared with a loud pop and gallons of sticky black liquid sprayed in all directions and the dragon's neck flopped on to the ground, a smoking tube of flesh writhing mindlessly where the head used to be.
Simon sat down heavily and dropped his staff. He pulled his legs up under him and rested his elbows on his knees and his chin on his hands. He was completely drained.
In the space between the dragon's remains and where the wizard sat, the ground rumbled again and large mounds of dirt were pushed out of the earth. Nine of them. And then, climbing out of the soil, tall, blocky figures emerged and stared down at him.
One stepped forward and bowed. It looked like it was made of black lava rock and its glowing red eyes looked at Simon with something like admiration.
“It worked, sir wizard,” it said simply and Simon nodded wearily.
“It did, didn't it?” he replied quietly. “You and your fellow earthen did well, Kassus.”
Now all nine of the earth elementals bowed low.
“We pledged to come whenever you needed us,” Kassus said. “After the defeat of the primal white dragon, I thought that you would have a use for us again.”
“You were right about that. I'm just glad that you were waiting for my call and that our hurried little plan worked.”
“For you, sir wizard, we would wait for an eternity.”
Kassus turned and stared at what had once been the primal brown dragon.
“To have aided in the defeat of a second primal is a source of pride for us. It will make for a great story to tell our people in ages to come.”
“I'm glad you think so.”
Simon wiped off the dirt and sweat from his face and pushed himself to his feet, using his staff to brace against.
“Thank you all again for your service. You may return home now if you wish. If I need you again in the future, would you be willing to help me?”
“Any time, sir wizard. Just call my name and I and these others will be at your side. Have no doubt of that.”
Simon nodded and the elementals sank into the earth again and were gone.
He stood alone on the grassy plain and looked reflectively at the smoking neck of the dragon. The acid around it was still chewing at the soil and plants but he doubted that it would go far. He pushed his hair back, grimaced at the old habit as his hand met no resistance and then turned away to look at the distant shoreline.
He had no energy left for a Gate spell, or any other spell at the moment, and would have to wait until his magic recharged a bit. In the meantime, he began to walk slowly toward the ocean, eager to get away from the scene of carnage at his back.
It took about a half hour for Simon to reach the coastline. The clean ocean breeze woke him up and he felt a surge of energy at its salty touch. He found a small tidal pool, knelt down and laid his staff down next to him.
He chanted the incantation for the Magic Mirror spell, focused his mind on his target and invoked the spell.
“Daniel, can you hear me?”
The pool misted over and the wizard waited. His stomach rumbled and his throat felt like it was coated in sand but he ignored these annoyanc
es and concentrated on the spell.
The mist rolled away and Simon saw the face of his old friend appear on the surface of the water. His sense of relief made him a little dizzy; he'd been afraid that Daniel and the others had been attacked by the primal brown before it had come after him.
“Simon!” his friend exclaimed. “Oh, thank God you're alive. Hang on, let me get something to look into.”
The wizard watched as Daniel hurried to the small alcove where the well was. He didn't see any of the others in the cavern.
His friend filled a cup with water, sat on the edge of the well and looked into it.
And then they were staring into each other's eyes.
“There you are,” Daniel said, his voice thick with relief. “Are you okay? What happened? Several brown dragons fell from the skies above the cave a short time ago, so I assume the primal is dead?”
“It is,” Simon said tiredly. “I'm fine. How are you and the others?”
“We're good. When the primal arrived outside of the cavern, we beat a hasty retreat but it ignored us. It nosed around the body of the lesser dragon and then barreled off after you. I guess it picked up the scent of Ethmira's blood. I saw her slash her arm to make a trail for the dragon to follow.”
“Speaking of Ethmira, has she come back yet?”
“No, she's...”
Some distant shouting made Daniel look up with a frown.
“Hang on,” he said as he got up and left the alcove. “This may be her now.”
Simon waited. He wondered how his friend and the others would react when they learned that Liliana had died fighting the dragon while he scurried like a rat through the portal.
He closed his eyes, remembering the valiant warrior. She had been everything that a paladin from an epic tale could be; brave, selfless, loyal. And now she was gone, because of him. It was so unfair.
“Simon?” Daniel said and he opened his eyes to look at his friend.
“She's back. A little bedraggled,” he grinned at someone beyond Simon's view, “but she seems to be fine. Here, I'll let you talk to her.”
His friend handed the cup over and now the elf was looking back at the wizard.
“You're alive!” she exclaimed with a broad smile. “I saw a brown dragon crash through the forest canopy on the return trip. You succeeded then. Well done, my friend. Very well done!”
“Thanks Ethmira, but I can't take much of the credit for it. Without you opening the portal and Liliana's sacrifice, I never would have had a chance to trap the primal here on my world.”
He hesitated.
“What happened to her after I...ran. Did you...”
Ethmira looked up and then moved aside as someone else took her place in his view.
“What happened is that damned dragon ran away before I could take its other eye!” Liliana exclaimed with an irritated scowl.
Simon gaped at her.
“Liliana! But...but you're supposed to dead!”
“Well, sorry to disappoint you,” she said with a twisted smile. “Why am I supposed to be dead?”
“The primal said, I mean it told me...”
His voice trailed off and he just grinned at her.
“It lied obviously. Probably to throw me off a bit. It worked too, for a moment.”
“A paladin is damned hard to kill, my friend,” Liliana told him. “I did get hit with some acid; bloody stuff ate my shield! But the few wounds I took were quickly healed. The primal was quite eager to follow you, actually. Obviously its biggest mistake. So, how did you defeat it?”
Simon shook his head. Between his exhaustion and the relief of knowing that the paladin had survived, he was practically speechless.
“I'll tell you later. Do me a favor, would you? Ask Virginia and the others if they be willing to stay there for a little while, instead of taking a portal back right away. I want to head over to Nottinghill and get some rest. I think I have just enough energy left to Gate myself there, but taking anyone else might be beyond me just now.”
“I can't open a portal for a few hours anyway,” he heard the elf say. “Let him get his rest and he can call us when he's ready.”
“You heard?” the paladin asked and Simon nodded.
“I did. Tell her thanks. I'll call tomorrow. That will only be a couple of hours your time anyway.”
“Will do. And Simon,” Liliana looked at him intently. “Congratulations on a job well done. You are rapidly becoming a legend, my friend.”
The wizard snorted.
“Only in my own mind,” he replied and she laughed lightly.
“Talk to you all soon,” he said and with a wink and a smile at the paladin, canceled the spell.
To know that Liliana hadn't died was incredibly thrilling for Simon and he simply sat for a bit, gathering his strength and relishing the knowledge that no one had had to die for them to defeat the primal brown dragon.
“A bloodless victory,” he said to himself as he used his staff to help him stand. “Thank God for that. I don't need anyone else's blood on my hands.”
He stretched, shook the sand off of his robe, which was stained and charred in a few places, and then gathered his strength. He chanted the Gate spell, pictured the new town and decided to transport himself outside the wall, just in case. Someone might be in the way if he popped into the middle of town.
He took a deep breath of tangy air, smiled a little and invoked the spell.
The void covered him in blackness and a sense of a vast nothingness, as always, and then he was standing just outside the gate of Nottinghill.
He stared at the town in confusion for a minute, not sure what he was seeing. He could still taste the salty sea air on his tongue and then with his next breath he was gasping and wheezing as thick smoke clogged his nostrils.
Nottinghill was...gone. The outer wall had collapsed into heaps of rubble and billowing black clouds of ash and smoke rose into the air from inside of it. Beyond the destroyed wall were piles of burning wood and a mound of broken rock where the town hall had once stood.
“What the hell?” Simon whispered in disbelief.
The drawbridge was scorched but still extended over the trench and he walked carefully over the smoking planks, steadying himself with his staff.
Inside the ruined gates, he stopped and stared, looking for any sign of movement and listening intently.
All he heard was the crackle and pop of still burning wood, its acrid smell pinching his nostrils. All he saw was devastation.
“Hello?” he yelled as he finally found the energy to move. He hurried into the destroyed town, looking around frantically.
“Hello? Is anyone here?”
Simon looked at the mounds of burned timbers that used to be small houses and fearfully searched each one, pushing aside smoldering bits of timber and destroyed furniture. He felt a growing sense of relief as he found no bodies, no human remains.
Maybe they all got away from whatever attacked the town, he thought with a desperate hope.
Finally he approached the shattered mound of stone that had been the town hall. He stared at it from a few feet away, frowning in confusion.
It was warded, he thought. It was warded from attack. How is this possible?
He stepped forward through what had once been the main door. The walls were mostly intact but the roof had collapsed in on itself and the hall was open to the sky. He glanced up, shook his head numbly and then stepped over a pile of ash.
And then he stopped. It wasn't a just pile of ashes.
A few scorched pieces of cloth, a seared boot, a sliver of blackened bone.
Oh God, he thought and backed away hurriedly. It's a person.
Simon stood in the doorway and looked around, leaning heavily on his staff. Mounds of ashes. All scattered around the perimeter as if the townspeople had been frantically trying to brace the walls against whatever had attacked them.
Slowly, reluctantly, his eyes drifted to the center of the room. The collapsed roof was in
pieces all over the place but strangely the middle of the hall was clear. And there, inside a circle of ashes, the remains of the adults who had desperately tried to protect them, three little mounds were huddled together.
Simon groaned out loud and turned away, tears washing clean trails through the dirt on his face.
The children, he thought with despair. Oh God, not the children.
He stumbled out of the hall and into the open area, trying to process what had happened here. He shook his head, tried to think.
What could have done this? The walls were warded, the hall was warded. Had he been gone that long? But no, the fires were still smoldering. The attack was recent, maybe a few hours ago.
Through his grief and rage, Simon suddenly felt a sense of menace. He spun around, looking for any sign of a threat. But there was nothing, just the sad remains of a once proud town.
Oh my friends, he thought. I failed you. When you needed me most, I wasn't here to protect you. I failed you.
Suddenly that sixth sense made the skin on his arms rise in goosebumps. He looked around yet again but there was nothing there.
“What is it!” he shouted at himself in anger.
This time, there was an answer.
A triumphant bellow pierced the air and he looked up, squinting into the sun. Diving down at him, claws extended and jaws agape, was an enormous red dragon. As Simon stared at it, stunned, the horned head pulled back and then shot forward, sending a blast of white hot flame earthward, directly at the wizard.
His last thought was, so this is how I die. And then all he knew was fire.
The End
Links
My List of Novels:
The Titan's Legacy
Book:1 The Return of the Titans
Book:2 The Battle for Sanctuary
Book 3: The Hunt for Hyperion
The Angelic Wars
Book 1: Confronting the Fallen
Book 2: The Rise of the Fallen
The Dragons of Decay Page 42