Silverstone

by C E Johnson

  “And the dragon-oaths?” Marcus asked.

  “Using the batteries for energy, everyone will come to us. Anyone giving Iscar their dragon-oath will be allowed to live. They will be given food and warmth. No one in his service will hunger or thirst again.” She tapped a finger on the flawless skin of her cheek. “Anyone who has ears will hear of what we are offering.”

  “What will happen to the weather?” Marcus asked. “I’ve grown accustomed to the heat.”

  Brytam led out a small laugh flashing both Marcus and Iscar with a dazzling smile of perfectly spaced glistening teeth. “The sun will turn as dark as sackcloth, and the sky will turn red with the ashes.”

  “You’re so dramatic, Brytam, just speak plainly.” Marcus rolled his eyes. “Explain the ashes part,” Marcus encouraged her. “I don’t really understand the ashes and ice.”

  Brytam stood before them her eyes blazing with an inner fire. “The second round of missiles we sent out have landed precisely at every super-volcano that we determined was primed to erupt with a little help. Here’s an example.” She pulled up a screen which showed three missiles landing one after another with nuclear blasts on the titanic supervolcano in Yellowstone. “In areas such as this, we had to sequentially tunnel our way downward, but every volcano we targeted is erupting.”

  “Can I see the lava before the satellites die?” Marcus asked. “I love the molten fire.”

  Brytam smiled. “You act like such a child sometimes, Marcus.” She showed another picture demonstrating lava running down a hillside creating a lake of molten stone so large it stretched across the land. “Ash and sulfur dioxide are spewing from these craters absorbing sunlight and reflecting rays back toward the sun. There will be frost and snow. Crops not harvested will quickly wither and die. The climate will turn colder overnight.”

  “I think the time for my return to Acacia is growing very close,” Marcus sniffed. “Can we capture Emily and get our keys to the kingdom from her before the stars fall from the sky and the rivers go dry?” He rubbed the mane of his bondsmate. “I’m not a fan of these days of wrath. At least I would rather be on another world while all the evil and plagues are killing ninety percent of the people around here in Armageddon.”

  “Talk about being dramatic.” Brytam rolled her brilliant eyes back at Marcus. “Are you scared of a little snow?”

  “I’m ready to leave the Middle East and head to the battle ground,” Marcus grunted. “Can we depart this place of a million computers and no swords? My life is becoming as rusty as my blade.” He roughly rubbed the mane of his bondsmate once again. “The teeth of my lion are turning to mush.”

  “Our ship is ready to sail,” Brytam announced excitedly. “We can leave this base to a few half-deads in case we ever have to return.”

  “Brilliant job,” Iscar said as he lifted his face to her glory. Reflecting on the power she must feel at having changed so many components of an entire world, he stood in awe of Brytam.

  A surprised expression formed on Marcus’ face. “We’re leaving?” He spun to face Iscar. “Is that the plan?”

  Although he’s strong, Marcus isn’t the most intelligent of men, Tengu teased. You’ve told him the plan a hundred times.

  Iscar laughed to Tengu as he stood. “It is, Marcus. We’re sailing for North America with all of our forces.” He held out a hand to his girlfriend. Brytam went to Iscar and placed her palm in his. He felt electricity sparkle as they intertwined their fingers.

  “Lead on, my prince,” she said in a hushed tone. Her eyes were wide and expectant. Iscar picked up a snow-white cloak and draped it on her shoulders.

  Ullr’s muscles rippled and bulged as he held open the door of the control room, and they exited into a hallway. Tengu flew overhead. Goblins scurried forward carrying a change of warmer clothes for each of them. Rapidly they placed on the warmer garments. Over these, they placed leather armor stamped with platinum and steel. A crown of gold was placed on Iscar’s head, and a circlet of silver on Brytam. Marcus and Ullr each received a pin in the shape of a dragon fashioned together from blackstone fragments. Lastly, scabbarded swords were belted around the waists of the men, and a jeweled dagger around Brytam’s lithe athletic frame.

  “This way, my king,” the lead goblin grunted. He led them to a passageway lit by electric lights where a car waited for them. “All powered by your batteries, King Iscar,” a male goblin rasped as he opened the doors for them. The back hatch of the car was opened and Tengu landed in a chaotic rush.

  Are you okay? Iscar asked his bondsmate.

  I’m fine, Tengu answered softly, but my pride is hurt by my undignified landing. Iscar chuckled out loud.

  Once the doors were shut, Marcus gave Iscar a wink. “These goblins smell horrible, but they do good work.”

  Iscar sniffed and he thought he could detect a faint scent of sulfur drifting to his nose over the reeking goblins. Is the world changing already? he wondered.

  It most certainly is, Tengu answered.

  The car began to speed through the tunnels. Iscar stared out the windows as they emerged from his underground kingdom. The sky was dark, and there was a chill in the air. He glanced at Brytam who was studying him with a triumphant smile on her face. Although he wanted to share her joy, he could think of nothing else but the infernal half-dead who wanted to control so much of their future. “What do you think we should do with Drogor?” he asked in a hushed voice. A bead of sweat appeared on his forehead and slowly trickled down his face as he addressed the dreaded elephant in the room.

  “I don’t know,” Brytam answered with a pained expression on her face. Her voice had dropped even lower than his, and a touch of fear twisted on her perfect features. She bit her lip and sighed. A burst of wind whipped across the sands crashing against their vehicle which sped toward the nearest port. A dark mood descended.

  “He wants Malachi to bring him across soon,” Iscar revealed.

  Brytam put a hand hesitantly through her dark hair. “Why doesn’t he request you to bring him across?” There was a frown on her face. “Shouldn’t you be given the honor?”

  Iscar shrugged. “I don’t think he’ll make Malachi a king.”

  “Don’t underestimate him,” Marcus grunted.

  “You’re worried about Drogor, too, aren’t you, Marcus?” Iscar asked.

  “What’s to like about him?” Marcus said in a voice that was both low and hard. “I’ve read the stories. He was an executioner, a butcher.”

  Marcus’ eyes had glittered with something unusual when he spoke. Iscar was certain he could see discomfort in the strong man’s soul. We all fear Drogor, Iscar thought to himself.

  Marcus spoke up again without a hint of warmth in his voice. “Malachi is a pawn in Drogor’s hand. Drogor only cares about Maaca. All of the rest of us are expendable.”

  I fear Marcus is right, Tengu whispered. Ask Ullr his opinion.

  “Ullr, what do you think?” Iscar asked. The car was moving with faster and faster speed. Warriors had already cleared the highway of all non-working vehicles and potential obstacles for their king. Nothing stood in their way but sand extending to the horizon, rippling and swaying like waves in the ocean.

  Ullr rubbed his strong jaw thoughtfully before answering. “I was brought back into existence by your father,” Ullr sighed. “Samil made me vow to protect you.” He licked his silver lips and turned his head to meet Iscar’s eyes.

  “Yes?” Iscar waited expectantly while wondering where Ullr’s loyalties were truly aligned.

  “Sometimes I wonder if my vow to protect you somewhat conflicts with my inner desire toward helping all half-deads.” Ullr’s tone was cool and honest. They all hung on his words. The air stood still, and silence filled their compartment.

  “Advise me,” Iscar urged his half-dead shade. “In the name of my father, what should I do?”

  Ullr became quiet for a time. Eventually he appeared to have made some sort of a decision in his mind and he continued, “If you
don’t have a plan of how to keep Drogor under your command, I don’t think in the long run he’s going to let you survive.”

  A chill went down Iscar’s spine and he felt his face flush. He took a glass of wine out of a holder at his side. He sipped the liquid and set it down. “What should be my strategy?” Iscar asked.

  “I believe you need to talk with Malachi and make him one of your highest generals,” Ullr answered. “Make him a prince or a lower king. Once Malachi brings Drogor across from Ater, you and Malachi must carefully plan out your orders for Drogor. Otherwise, Drogor will surely have his own plan to gain control of his destiny.”

  “We’re losing even as we win,” Iscar said while giving a heavy sigh. It was worse than he had thought. The wind gusted again more powerfully than before. The car swayed. His mouth became dry.

  “We all need to think over what we want very carefully,” Ullr whispered.

  There was a pounding in Iscar’s head. Shadows continued to grow on the land outside their windows. Ashes were encasing the Earth. Soon only fragments of sunlight would be able to reach through the dark. Iscar felt an ache in his core. “You’re right Ullr. The final battle is approaching. We must plan our strategy well.”

  “I don’t have a strategy for Drogor just yet,” Brytam said slowly. She wasn’t her usual cheerful self. She gave Iscar a haunted look, and Iscar felt a panic rise up in the center of his chest. “I’ve read about him, like Marcus,” she murmured. “Drogor can be downright ghastly.”

  Encourage Brytam, Tengu advised Iscar. Don’t let her lose confidence.

  “Everything’s still in our grasp,” Iscar whispered to Brytam. He squeezed her hand. The wind screamed against the car as it barreled its way to the port. Brytam leaned back against her headrest and she closed her eyes.

  * * *

  It was the middle of the night when they eventually came to a stop. Goblins opened the door and led them up the gangplank of their ship. A contingent of vampires stood on one side of the deck, a squad of shades on the other. The soldiers were immaculate in their armor, not a clasp out of place. Coldness swirled around them, but the half-deads didn’t appear to feel the cold. They stood ramrod straight at attention. “Welcome, King Iscar,” they roared as one.

  Make them proud, Tengu advised.

  “This world is ours!” Iscar bellowed back at the assembled warriors, and they let out a massive cheer. Even so, the world he had come to know had dramatically changed. Earth was now fitful and gusty. A flake of snow fell from the sky and landed on his skin. Iscar turned his face to the heavens striving to see the outlines of a blood-red moon through the ash.

  “This world can still be yours and mine,” Brytam whispered. She was back at his side, giving him a measured look. There was hope in her voice. As they exchanged a glance. Iscar saw a promising glimmer in her eyes. “I don’t want to give up anything that we’ve worked so hard for,” she said breathlessly. “I have a plan.”

  Iscar sighed in relief. “Together we will deal with Drogor and Malachi,” he promised Brytam. He hoped he was sounding more confident than he felt. Squeezing her hand again, he felt a spark of warmth forming in his chest, fed by her strength and determination. He slid his arms to encircle her waist and she pressed her soft body against him. As their lips touched, the sparks turned to a fire. I’ll protect her from Drogor, he promised himself.

  But who will protect you? Tengu whispered.

  CHAPTER 12

  Swamps

  Emily awoke to a pounding in her head. It was dark and the land was cold. She glanced around and realized she hadn’t been moved. She was still reclining next to the trailer, but blankets were now under her and all around her. It’s good to have you back, Xena whispered in her mind.

  Emily could feel Xena snuggling next to her under the covers on one side. She felt another massive, furry body on her other side, and she realized Rune also liked to burrow under covers. It’s good to be back, Emily answered her bondsmate. Xena passed love and tenderness across their link, and Emily responded with her own emotions of affection and appreciation, sentiments for which there were no words.

  “You’re awake,” Luke said in a hushed voice. He was standing sentry just beyond her position. Emily gasped as she looked at him. Luke’s exposed skin was a mass of cuts, blood, and gore. He spun on his heels and rushed to bring her water. Gently lifting her head, he helped her to drink. Luke smelled of death, leather and steel. They all did. Elizabeth was also instantly at Emily’s side brushing her hair back from her face in a tender motion. Isabelle brought Emily some bread, cheese, and salty dried meat.

  “You stopped them,” Anna said to Emily as she approached with a limp. Anna’s hair was wild, and dirt was smudged on her cheek. “Your fireball cleared the bridge. Besides the half-deads that jumped into the river, only a handful of their warriors and magicians were left at the bottom.” Anna glanced toward Mr. Henry who was in his same position as the previous day with his rifle across one leg. A black arrow stuck out of the center of his other leg. “Mr. Henry is keeping the last of them from advancing.”

  “Coach Palin, Coach McAdams, Poulton?” Emily asked. She felt an emptiness inside her. She already knew what she had seen.

  “All are dead,” Luke said, his voice barely above a whisper.

  “So much death.” Emily shook her head which was still throbbing. The ache in her chest was unrelenting.

  “You need to move out under the cover of night,” Mr. Henry urged. “I can slow them down for you.” He pointed to his leg. “I’m not much good with this arrow sapping my strength. I’d only be a burden.”

  “I can heal you,” Emily implored. “We can heal you.” She wasn’t about to let another one of her squad die. She tested her inner magus, but there was only a flicker of energy left within her. She stood slowly with Luke’s help, but she felt instantly breathless and her heart began to race in a fitful flutter. Her head was groggy, and the cold wind stole her next words before she could mouth more encouragement.

  “My femur’s shattered,” Mr. Henry sighed. “Get to New Orleans. Put an end to this madness.” He glanced upward while setting his lips in a hard line. Emily felt tears forming in her eyes. “Don’t weep for me,” Mr. Henry said in a soft voice. “You will triumph over this evil with your faithful followers.”

  “We can defeat them with you,” Emily urged. “I can teach one of my friends to repair your bone.”

  They don’t have the strength or knowledge for such a spell, Xena whispered tenderly.

  “They don’t have much energy left either,” Mr. Henry said to her just as tenderly as Xena had spoken in her mind. He studied each of her remaining squad members. “The longer you wait, the more that will come. I’ve already seen more half-deads approaching their camp.” His eyes deep in thought, Mr. Henry ran a finger along his red mustache. “I never imagined that I would see the end of days, but they’re here.” Tears glistened in his eyes. “I know you five. I’ve seen your love and faith. God will honor your service.” Emily went to him, and carefully avoiding his leg, she hugged him. Each of her friends followed her lead.

  “I’ll stay with you,” Oliver said with firm resolve. He was standing and remarkably appeared relatively uninjured, but Emily could tell he was more than weary. He leaned heavily on his staff.

  “You’re a hand-to-hand fighter,” Mr. Henry scoffed good-naturedly. “You’re no good here. Help protect them.” Oliver nodded. Emily thought she could see a flicker of relief in his eyes. Fixing his gaze on Emily, Mr. Henry continued. “Go as far as you can on the highway. Then finish your approach to New Orleans south through the swamps in a wide arc.” He made a grimace and his hand shot to his leg. He grew pale, but he spoke again in a shaking voice. “They’ll be waiting for you on the roads. Go where they won’t expect you.” Emily threw her arms around Mr. Henry. She cried quietly on his shoulder until Luke pulled her gently away and helped her to her horse. The night wind swirled speaking of the new cold. The warm water below was sending up a
pale mist that was growing thicker by the minute, shrouding them in shadows. Emily wrapped her cloak around her and gently moved her reins to direct Apache down from their bridge-top position. They began descending on other side of the bridge from the half-dead camp. Staring back at Mr. Henry’s forlorn and broken form hiding behind the trailer, her heart nearly split in two.

  “A braver man than me,” Oliver said quietly, following Emily’s glance toward Mr. Henry.

  Look to the future, Xena advised, reminding Emily that she would only become stronger after the hardships that she was enduring. Don’t look back.

  Emily followed Xena’s advice and she didn’t look back again, instead focusing on the road before them. Apache moved more rapidly with a smooth gait appearing eager to leave the battle behind them. Once they found room to ride in the grass, they increased their speed even more eating up the miles to New Orleans. They rode late into the day until their steeds were wet with sweat and lather. “Are they near?” she asked Anna. “Are the half-deads following?”

  Anna closed her eyes delving into her link with Soane who was soaring above their enemy. “They’re just over the rise behind us.” Anna wiped away a tear. “Mr. Henry is dead.”

  Emily’s mouth tightened with the horror that wasn’t ending. “Then we go into the swamps.” She glanced to Isabelle. “Can you keep our way clear of unwanted guests?”

  Isabelle blinked and nodded. Her eyes looked haunted and she looked ready to collapse herself, but she spoke bravely. “I’ll keep our path protected. I’ll send the creatures against our enemies.” They dismounted and took the saddles off their steeds. Isabelle sent a message to the horses to stay clear of the half-deads, and they released their animals. Isabelle bit her lip. “It’s sad to let them go. I’ll direct them towards New Orleans.” The day was dark, and bits of ash floated down to them on the slow breeze.