Secrets of the Sword 2 (Death Before Dragons Book 8)

by Lindsay Buroker

  I jerked my head away from the ghostly grip and tried to focus on using my magic. Chopper, I tried to will the sword, free yourself!

  The scabbard shuddered in my hand, but it continued its inexorable aerial trek toward the box. Once again, its lid was open, and the darkness within seemed to be sucking me toward it. What had Zav done to close the lid and deactivate it?

  I tried to send my power toward it, to use the wind to sweep the lid shut. No hint of a breeze stirred in the night. Unfortunately, Freysha hadn’t taught me telekinesis yet, and when I created a mental fern frond to try to push the lid shut, nothing happened. Hopefully, it was only in my imagination that the box laughed at me.

  Frustrated, I opened fire at its glowing purple sides. Not surprisingly, given that dragon magic had crafted the box, the bullets ricocheted off.

  Since it wasn’t helping, I holstered Fezzik. Maybe if I tried with both hands to yank Chopper out of the air…

  Swinging my legs to create momentum, I lunged up and caught the hilt with my other hand. Chopper slid several inches out of the scabbard, almost startling me into losing my grip.

  Wait, was the levitation magic acting on the scabbard, not the sword? I tugged myself up so I could create the space to pull Chopper farther out. It glided effortlessly free, leaving me dangling from one hand by the scabbard with the blade at my side.

  Feeling victorious—if a little foolish—I let go and landed in the damp leaves. The scabbard continued toward the box, and even with solid earth under my feet, the pull of that magic was powerful. I stumbled several steps toward it before bracing myself against a tree and turning my back on the thing.

  Invisible skeletal fingers gripped my braid again, as well as my duster. They tried to tug me toward the box. Something wrapped around my ankle, jerking my leg several inches off the ground.

  “No, you don’t.” I whirled, slicing through the invisible fingers.

  As before, Chopper met resistance as it passed through the air. In the morning, someone would find more finger bones on the ground out here.

  Branches snapped in the direction of Freysha’s trap, and Sindari snarled as someone shouted in surprise—and pain? The sound of a woman swearing in a language I didn’t understand followed.

  I’ve got her! Sindari said.

  Good! I slashed my way free of the grasping fingers and rushed toward him.

  The thief was still invisible, but Sindari had clearly pinned her under his legs.

  Through the trees, the lights of the house were visible, as were Mom, Rocket, and a giant wolf three times Rocket’s size. Rocket barked as the wolf—Liam—lunged and snapped at invisible enemies.

  Worry for Mom charged through me. I had to get that lid closed and the box shut off, so the wraiths would leave them alone.

  “Hold her, Sindari!” I shouted and veered back toward the box.

  More fingers grasped at me, but I didn’t slow down, only slashing at them as I ran. Twenty feet ahead of me, Chopper’s scabbard, still floating through the air, tilted downward and was sucked into the box.

  The pull grew stronger as I ran toward it, and fear made me want to turn the other way. But there was a tree next to it, and the magic wasn’t doing anything to pull its branches into the box. If I could grab it and brace myself, then I could close the lid.

  By the time I was five feet away, it felt like a black hole sucking me in. I angled my path, hooking one arm around the tree and anchoring myself to avoid being pulled in after my scabbard. My braid floated over my shoulder toward it.

  I leaned out, reaching toward the lid with Chopper. The tip touched it, and I nudged it upward. Since I could barely reach it, I couldn’t quite get the leverage to lift it.

  “Just a little closer,” I whispered, letting my grip on the tree slip slightly.

  A skeletal hand grasped my shoulder. It yanked back harder than I expected, and Chopper slipped free of the lid.

  Snarling, I twisted and slashed through the invisible grip with the blade. Something thunked to the ground.

  I whirled back and levered Chopper under the lid. It rose slowly, my sword’s blue glow mingling with the purple.

  A boom and a white flash came from the trap.

  Watch out, Val, Sindari warned. She got away.

  I flicked the lid shut, and the purple light disappeared.

  Movement off to my side made me jerk back. Something hurtled through the air toward me. A grenade.

  I shoved myself away from the tree, but my foot caught on a root. I tottered backward, then twisted and threw myself into a roll away from the box—and the grenade. At the last second, I flung my arms over my head, almost lopping off my braid with my sword.

  The grenade blew up with a boom and a flash that rattled my teeth, and the shockwave tossed me farther away. A tree snapped and went down. Branches slammed to the ground all around me, one cracking me on the back of the head hard enough to stun.

  I struggled to recover, to push myself to my feet and brace for an attack.

  Something thudded to the ground beside me. Another branch, I assumed, but then the purple glow of the box returned. It was open again and on its side only three feet away. Its power pulled me stumbling toward the swirling blackness inside, the purple light flaring even brighter around it, as if it was excited to swallow me whole.

  I tried to plant my feet, but the pull was too strong. I flailed at the air, trying to find something else to grab. There was nothing. I lifted Chopper to swing at the box, but a blurry figure lunged out of the shadows and grabbed my sword arm. The thief?

  Instinctively, I kicked at her. But with only one foot on the ground, that made it easier for the box to vacuum me up like a piece of lint.

  I had the satisfaction of connecting with the thief’s stomach, but it didn’t matter. The power of the artifact swept us both into the box, and darkness enveloped me.

  20

  I landed hard on my back, the gray daylight sky and sulfur-laden air telling me that I wasn’t on Earth anymore. I rolled to my knees, relieved Chopper was still in my hand, and got one foot under me before I saw her.

  She’d also rolled into a crouch, a black helmet half-falling off her head, her dark hair slumping out of a ponytail and framing her dirty, bloody face as she glared at me. Since I’d seen Willard’s photographs, I recognized her, though she looked to have had as bad a night as I had. One of her dark eyes was swollen halfway shut, her shirt was torn—slashed by tiger claws—in several spots, and her lip was cut open, blood dribbling down her chin.

  “I can see you,” I pointed out, keeping an eye on her but also surveying our surroundings.

  Were we back on the dwarven world? The air smelled right. But maybe this was that haunted world. We were crouching on a rocky ledge near a cliff, a hint of greenery visible far below. The idea of having a battle up here wasn’t appealing, but she gripped a magical dagger and what looked like a miniature crossbow. She hadn’t aimed them at me—yet—but she squinted at me, as if she was considering it.

  Fezzik’s weight was reassuring in my thigh holster, and Chopper had deflected projectiles before, so hopefully, I could handle her now that she wasn’t camouflaged. Why wasn’t she camouflaged?

  She reached toward her throat. I thought it was to check one of her injuries, but she stopped short of her bloody lip and instead tapped at her collarbones. Looking for something?

  She scowled at me as if whatever she was missing was my fault. Maybe it was. If she had something similar to my charm thong, Sindari might have ripped it off. Wherever he was. He hadn’t come through the box with us, the box that had apparently been left back in the woods by Mom’s cabin. There was no equivalent of it on this side. Which meant I might not have a way back.

  “You’ve got my sword,” she said in accented English.

  “It’s my sword, thanks. I don’t appreciate your attempts to steal it.” I spotted Chopper’s scabbard lying on the ground a few feet away and snatched it up.

  “You are not the right
ful owner. You originally stole it.”

  “No, I slew an enemy who had it and claimed it as mine.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Then your enemy stole it. That is a dwarven dragon blade made by the master enchanter Dondethor Orehammer thousands of years ago here on Dun Kroth.”

  “Yeah, I’ve heard that. It’s mine now.” I smiled cheerfully as I studied her clothing, hoping that portal generator was the size of a TV remote and tucked into one of her pockets.

  I wanted to go back and check on Mom. With luck, all the invisible wraiths had disappeared when we’d gone through that box, but I had no way to know that. Maybe it was still open and even now trying to suck her and her werewolf acquaintance through it. And what about Sindari? Based on my previous experiences with his charm, he should have poofed back to his realm as soon as I was out of range, but I’d never been sucked through a strange demonic portal while working with him.

  Unfortunately, the photograph I’d seen of her portal generator had shown it as significantly larger than pocket-sized. She was wearing a backpack, one strap dangling off her shoulder as it slumped to one side, a compact crossbow attached to it, but it didn’t look large enough to hold the generator. I could sense more magical items inside of her pack, but who knew what?

  “I am Li, daughter of Dorrik Orehammer,” she said, “the only remaining descendant of Dondethor Orehammer. The sword is mine by birthright.”

  “Uh huh. I’m going to need to see your driver’s license.”

  “My dwarven lineage is not on my driver’s license.”

  “No? Guess you’re out of luck then.”

  Tension knotted my shoulders, and my chest tightened, making me glad I had my inhaler in my pocket. Not that I would use it in front of an enemy. No way would I show her that weakness.

  “You will not return the blade to its rightful owner?” Li asked.

  Uh. Would I? My fears that she could be presenting the truth returned to the forefront of my mind.

  “How can you possibly know you’re its rightful owner? You’re a half-human mongrel from Earth, like me, right? Whoever your father was could have been lying about his heritage. Or your mother might have made it up.”

  Her dark eyes flared with indignation. “My father was a great dwarf enchanter, trained by the masters of this world. When I was young, he told me personally that he came to Earth to seek his ancestor’s legendary sword. Only when he met my mother and fell in love was he distracted for a time. He always intended to return to his quest, but his death put an end to that prematurely.” She scowled at me, as if I’d been responsible.

  Not likely. I’d never been to China, if that was where all this had happened, and I probably wasn’t much older than Li was. We might even be the same age. She only appeared to be about thirty, but so did I; we ought to have similar lifespans. Assuming she stopped bleeding. She was leaving droplets on the bare rock underneath her, but she didn’t let go of her weapons to check her wounds. She still looked like she was contemplating shooting me.

  “That’s a nice story,” I said. “You’ll have to prove it to me though. No offense, but my boss says you’re a thief who’s taken all sorts of artifacts and treasures from our country in the past few months.”

  Her chin lifted. “Artifacts and treasures that were stolen from the Old World. I am not a thief. I am a relic hunter and, when necessary, a vigilante. I deal with criminals that others can’t handle.” Her eyes narrowed. “Like assassins with magical tigers and all manner of magical trinkets that make them hard to kill.”

  “Uh, like the magical trinkets that make you hard to find and kill? What happened to your invisibility charm? Did Sindari rip it off?”

  “Sindari,” she mouthed. “The tiger? Yes. It is good that you gave me his name. If you do not give me the sword that is rightfully mine, then I will slay you and take the items you have stolen, including that charm.”

  “You’re welcome to try.” I gave her another smile, though I mostly wanted to kick her again. I wouldn’t since she was bleeding and hadn’t tried to shoot me since we arrived here, but she was the reason I was stuck here, so the temptation was real.

  “You will not do the honorable thing?”

  “Not unless you prove to me that the sword is yours.”

  “Yes.” Her eyes glinted with triumph. “I can do that.”

  Uh oh. Had I walked into a trap?

  “That is why I brought you here. I knew you would be difficult to kill, but I also believed that if you learned the truth, you would do the honorable thing.” Her eyes narrowed again, and she looked me up and down in contemplation. “Your reputation is not one of dishonor.”

  This talk of honor disturbed me, bringing to mind my chat with Zav in the sauna. He would want me to do the honorable thing. He’d made that clear. But Li had to be lying. This all had to be some scheme. What were the odds that one of the handful of dwarf-human beings living on Earth would be the descendant of the dwarf who’d made my sword ten thousand years ago? That was way too much of a coincidence to be true.

  But if this was all a ruse, why did Li believe that she could prove the sword was hers?

  She must have a whole scheme set up. If that portal generator had brought her here previously, she would have had the opportunity to plant some fake evidence ahead of time.

  “What are you going to do?” I asked. “Take me to some ancient dwarven shrine that lists all of Dondethor Orehammer’s descendants? Including your father and you?”

  “Something like that.” Li pushed herself to her feet and pointed off to a huge black mountain in the distance. Smaller peaks framed it, all covered with snow, but the black peak was mysteriously free of a white cap. Was this Mount Crenel? “You will come?” she asked.

  “It looks like a long walk. Why didn’t you just bring us out there?”

  “Portals may not take one into Mount Crenel. Great magic protects it.”

  “Oh, a dwarven security system. Won’t that be fun to bypass?” As I was looking at the ominous mountain, a large bird flew into view.

  Not, fortunately, one made from bones, but it pinged my senses as magical, and it was headed in our direction.

  Li saw it too. “Stone roc. It may see us as food. Or it may be drawn to our magic.”

  It screeched, the primal sound echoing from the mountains. Its beady eyes focused on us, and it picked up speed, its beak parting in eagerness for a meal.

  Li gripped her dagger and switched the dart weapon for her crossbow, then crouched, facing the creature as its great wings brought it closer. I drew Fezzik and, as soon as it was close enough, opened fire.

  Lately, it had been rare for my pistol’s bullets to pierce an enemy’s defenses, but this time, my first round bit in with a satisfying thud. The bird shrieked and pulled up.

  We ducked, and Li fired a bevy of crossbow bolts at the roc’s belly as it sailed past above. The magical weapon proved to have a repeating feature, new rounds thunking automatically into place. Her quarrels and my bullets both struck true.

  I fired twice more, not convinced the huge bird wouldn’t turn around to try again, but it flapped its wings hard and flew away from us.

  Only after I’d spent the bullets did I realize that I had a more limited supply than usual with me. All I had was what I’d been wearing when I’d been sucked through the portal, which meant no food and water and only the single spare magazine in my belt pouch.

  “We should get off this ridge.” Li slung her crossbow across her back and adjusted her pack. “There are many large predators on this world. The lich is not the only reason the dwarves spend much of their time inside the mountains.”

  “Did you say the lich?”

  Li was studying the sky in all directions and didn’t answer until she walked past me, heading down a slope that would take us to lower ground. “You are unaware of the dragon lich?”

  “The dragon lich?”

  Suddenly a dwarven security system seemed very innocuous.

  I ran to catch up
with Li. Though she was shorter than I was, she walked quickly.

  “I assumed your mate would have informed you that one of his dragon kin had made a deal with the underworld on Nagnortha to give itself eternal life and great power to control the undead.” Li spoke matter-of-factly, as if that didn’t sound like something out of a fantasy novel.

  “I’ve encountered zombies and vampires—and the crazy stuff that comes out of your black box—but as far as I’m aware, liches are…” I stopped myself before saying make believe or something out of Dungeons & Dragons. “Not something found on Earth,” I finished.

  Li gave me a look that reminded me of Amber’s scathing-pitying expressions. “We are not on Earth.”

  “I know that, but… Zav didn’t mention a lich. I’m positive he would have if he’d known about it.” I thought about sharing that the dragon who was supposed to rule over this world had disappeared, but Li wasn’t my ally. Telling her everything I knew wouldn’t be a good idea. Better to find out what she knew without spilling my own guts. “What’s this dragon, uh, lich's name? Did it tell you?”

  “It did not. I do not know what it bellowed at me as I was fleeing through my portal back to Earth.” Li scrambled down a slope more agilely than one would expect from a dwarf—or half-dwarf—keeping her balance as scree tumbled loose.

  “Why were you here visiting a lich?”

  “I did not expect it to be inside Mount Crenel. I was there to find proof that the sword you carry is rightfully mine.” Li came to the bottom of the slope and slanted an indecipherable look back at me.

  “Ah. And did the lich have that proof?”

  Li snorted. “It is camped out on top of it. For some reason, it chose Mount Crenel as its base of operations. I did not learn this until I traveled here, found the entrance, and was halfway to the ancient dwarven tomb and knowledge repository before I sensed its presence. Soon after, I ran into its minions. I was still able to slay many of them and get close enough to take photographs of the Wall of Ancestry and Wall of Great Makers. But unwisely, I grabbed a couple of artifacts that I thought might be useful in dealing with you—” Li gave me another look over her shoulder, “—and that roused the lich from its ruminations. It sent more minions to chase me out and attacked me with its own power. Even though it was from afar, it almost killed me. The lich is even more powerful than a dragon, thanks to the deal it made with the underworld.”