Light Chasers (The World of Lasniniar Book 0)

by Jacquelyn Smith

  Hamadi Glaurinu towered above the other mountains in the extreme southwest of the dark lands, sheltered from the withered plains of the Pelo Goro by a branching arm of the Hamad Orom. The cold air off the seacoast to the west, combined with the warm air generated by a host of dragons living in one place kept the mountain shrouded in a constant fog. No paths led up the mountainside. The only entrances or exits to be seen were the many mouths of dragon lairs that honeycombed the rock high above the ground. Vlaz knew there was also one entrance upon the ground, but it was for fledglings who had not yet mastered flight. The young dragons were wild and quick to attack any creature not of their mountain.

  Hence, the only safe way for Vlaz to gain entrance to the dragon city was riding on Nargaz’s back. He had never flown before. The drakhalu and the dragons had never tried to work together. When he could see the ground through an open patch in the fog, it was far below. Vlaz tightened his grip on one of Nargaz’s spines, but said nothing. He didn’t want to give Nargaz the satisfaction of admitting fear. The elfskin sack that held the Quenya hung from his waist. He hoped he would not regret this decision.

  Nargaz finally landed at what Vlaz assumed was the entrance to his lair. A large, flat balcony led to a wide opening in the rock. The interior was well-lit by dragon-sized torches. Vlaz blinked several times to allow his eyes to adjust and rubbed them in disbelief. The floor of the cave was piled with gold, silver, and gems. Beautifully wrought weapons and armor were scattered about. It must be booty from all the elves he had killed. Perhaps some of it was tribute from the dragon subjects who worshipped Nargaz as their lord. Either way, the sheer volume was staggering.

  Nargaz caught him staring and loomed over him, giving him a look through narrowed crimson eyes that would have shaken most creatures down to their boots.

  “If you so much as touch anything in my hoard, our agreement will be forfeit. I will not hesitate to kill you and take the Quenya for myself.”

  Vlaz knew he meant every word. He did his best to maintain his composure and gave a cool nod. Satisfied, Nargaz led him toward the back of the large cave. The farther from the entrance they went, the more Vlaz noticed the musky scent of dragon in the air.

  Nargaz lumbered through a tall opening that lay hidden in the shadows. Although he was lithe and graceful in the air, he seemed large and awkward on the ground, even in his home. Vlaz followed. The opening was only wide enough for a single dragon to enter, but the interior widened into the mountainside to a point where perhaps two dragons could walk abreast.

  More torches lined the stone walls high above the drakhal’s head. Vlaz felt small walking at Nargaz’s side in the huge tunnel. They continued walking for some time. Although there were many branching intersections to choose from, Nargaz did not pause. Vlaz soon lost track of which forks they had taken and became completely lost. The only thing he knew for certain was that they seemed to be moving steadily downward. He stifled a yawn. Outside, the sun would be rising soon. He was not usually up this late.

  The air became increasingly warm as they walked. Eventually, Vlaz was forced to remove his cloak. The musky scent had grown to an almost overpowering stench, laced with the tang of brimstone. The dragons they passed in the tunnels did not appear to notice it. They merely looked at him with curiosity before giving Nargaz a nod of respect and moving on. None of them dared to waylay their lord.

  Hours seemed to pass before the tunnel narrowed once more and Nargaz led the way through an entrance to a large, circular chamber within the heart of the mountain. A single pedestal of stone, topped with a deep bowl stood at the center. It took a moment for Vlaz to notice someone else in the room. His fangs protracted. It was an elf.

  His dusky skin marked him as one of those few who had not made the journey to Vila Eadros. His silver hair was bound in long braids. To Vlaz’s surprise, he appeared well-dressed and well-fed. He showed no trace of fear at Vlaz and Nargaz’s presence. Curious, Vlaz looked into his violet eyes. The drakhal suppressed a shiver. There was a gleam of madness there.

  “Vlaz, I would like you to meet Eruvalion.” Nargaz’s rumble was filled with smug amusement. “I believe you and he have something in common. He also bears no love for Valanandir, the male companion of the elf woman who can control the Quenya.”

  The elf’s eyes flashed at the mention of Valanandir’s name. Interesting. This elf held a personal grudge. Still, Vlaz was unconvinced that any one of the creatures would turn on the rest of their race. What made Nargaz so confident?

  “This is the one who will manipulate the Quenya?” He allowed some of his skepticism to flavor his voice.

  “Oh, yes. He wants Valanandir to suffer. Don’t you, Eruvalion?”

  “Valanandir is a thief and a liar.” Eruvalion’s eyes blazed. “Iadrawyn is mine!”

  Vlaz took an involuntary step back at the vehemence in the elf’s voice. He gave Nargaz an uncertain look. What was to stop this obsessed creature from turning the Quenya on them?

  “And she shall be yours once more,” Nargaz soothed. “Vlaz has brought the Quenya with him. You will be its new master. You will use it to cover Ralvaniar with darkness so we can bring pain to Valanandir, just like we talked about. Remember, the fate of Aranriel depends on it. I would hate for anything to happen to her.”

  “Mother. When can I see Mother?” The elf’s expression became anxious, giving Vlaz the clue he needed.

  “Aranriel is fine. She is proud to know her son will finally take what is rightfully his,” Nargaz said. “She has promised to send you a token once you have done what is needed and the first stage of our plan is complete.”

  Vlaz hid his skepticism. Nargaz was no fool. If the dragon was using the elf’s mother as a hostage and the elf had not seen her for some time, she was most likely dead. Perhaps she had become a tasty tidbit for Nargaz. He would have saved her clothing and whatever belongings she carried to use as tokens of her favor for her lack-wit son. Vlaz admired Nargaz’s clever manipulation. That the dragon had the luck to find and capture those two in particular was incredible. It wasn’t how Vlaz would have done it, of course. He preferred to dominate the minds of others outright and break them to his will. Still, he couldn’t argue with Nargaz’s methods in this case. The sly dragon’s manipulation was clearly working.

  “Can we get on with this?” Vlaz asked in a bored voice.

  “Of course,” Nargaz said with a gaping dragon grin. “Place the Quenya on the pillar.”

  Vlaz walked to the center of the chamber and removed the sack from his belt. He did not try to untie it. Once the sack was settled, he stepped back.

  Nargaz nodded to Eruvalion. The elf squared his shoulders and approached. Vlaz could smell his fear. Of course. He had never seen the Quenya before. If his family had been stubborn enough to stay in their ancestral home rather than make the pilgrimage to Vila Eadros with all the others, they must have all kinds of wild beliefs about the Quenya. Until his drakhalu had learned to use the cover of night and gone on reconnaissance missions to Vila Eadros, Vlaz had also wondered if the arrival of the sun, moon, and spring meant that the end of the world was nigh.

  “Think of Iadrawyn,” Nargaz said in a compelling voice. “She has spent years of her life communing with the power that lies before you. Make it yours and she will follow.”

  Expressions of anger and pain flickered across the elf’s face before he gave a nod. He took the final step toward the pedestal and reached for the drawstring of the elfskin sack. Vlaz held his breath as Eruvalion untied the complicated knot with deft fingers. A shaft of pure light emerged. The sack was open. Nargaz gave Vlaz a significant look. Already the elf had done what Vlaz’s drakhalu could not.

  Eruvalion pulled the opening wide. Lifting the sack, he dumped its contents into the vessel atop the pedestal. A perfect sphere of radiance lay before him, filling the large cavern with its softly pulsing glow. Vlaz couldn’t bear to blink. This was the first time he had seen the Quenya up close. He felt a sudden, almost overwhelming hunger for
its power. It must be his!

  It took all his willpower to keep himself in check. He forced himself to remember how the other drakhalu had disintegrated into piles of dust just trying to untie the sack. As frustrating as it was, he had no choice but to use the elf as his surrogate.

  Unsure how to proceed, Eruvalion steeled himself and reached both hands out to touch the Quenya. The light brightened at the contact and he closed his eyes. A moment later, his eyes popped open wide, all violet and mere pinpricks of pupil. His mouth opened in a silent scream, his face frozen in a rictus of horror. The light changed to an angry, throbbing red. Vlaz felt a surge of panic as he saw his best chance at controlling the Quenya withering before his eyes. His nails dug into the palms of his balled fists, drawing blood.

  But it wasn’t over. Some kind of internal struggle was taking place. The elf’s expression contorted as though he were wrestling with some invisible force. The light flickered and flared in a riot of color. Vlaz started breathing once more, but his breaths came rapid and shallow. He silently urged the elf to be strong.

  “Iadrawyn is mine!” The words emerged from Eruvalion’s mouth as a fierce growl.

  The light spasmed, fluctuating wildly through the entire spectrum. Vlaz squinted against the glare. Eruvalion’s eyes were wide open. Too much of the whites were showing for Vlaz’s taste. If the elf hadn’t been mad before, he certainly was now.

  When the light finally stabilized, it became a sullen purple that was almost black. Eruvalion uttered a long, high cackle before dropping to the floor in a ball. He wrapped his arms around himself and rocked back and forth, muttering. Vlaz thought he heard Iadrawyn’s name repeated somewhere in the low babble.

  “Eruvalion?” Nargaz probed in a gentle voice. “What have you done?”

  The elf looked up with eyes that were almost all pupil. “No sun, no moon, no stars. All darkness. Mother? Iadrawyn!” He looked away, lost in his own twisted thoughts.

  Nargaz snorted. “Come,” he said to Vlaz. “Let us see what he has wrought.”

  Rather than leading Vlaz back the way they had come, he took a different tunnel that led directly to another dragon lair on the lower levels, much to Vlaz’s relief. The creature that lived there rose to its feet in startlement at their intrusion, but did not protest.

  “My lord! Something is happening outside. The sun was rising, but now the sky is dark. What is going on?”

  Nargaz ignored the dragon’s questions and lumbered to the balcony. He stretched his long neck out as far as it would go, twisting to inspect the sky.

  “Well, it is not exactly what we expected, but I believe it will serve,” he said. “It seems it was not within Eruvalion’s power to destroy the sun, moon, or stars, so he created a barrier instead.”

  Cautious, Vlaz crept beside Nargaz, keeping within the protective shadow of the cave. The sky was completely dark. An enormous cloudbank stretched without end, blanketing the sky so completely, not a single ray of the rising sun broke through. Vlaz surveyed Eruvalion’s handiwork with satisfaction. Nargaz was right. It was not what he had in mind when he had stolen the Quenya, but it would do. It would more than do.

  Plans for his newfound freedom filled his thoughts. The elves would suffer. Taking a deep breath, Vlaz stepped out from the shadows and stood under the sky as the sun rose somewhere behind the cloudbank overhead.

  His time had come.