The Blood Stone

Home > Other > The Blood Stone > Page 8
The Blood Stone Page 8

by Jason J. Nugent


  Driano trailed them, keeping Belthos close to his side. “You have your bag? Tell me you have emeralds in there.”

  “Yes sir,” Belthos replied, earning him rare praise from the Magus.

  “Well done, lad. We’ll sell these when we get to Woodpine. The Verdant Magus will pay handsomely.”

  “Magus, protect us with your enchantment. It should give us some safety from its poison.”

  Driano’s stone glowed faintly, and the Magus wove a spell of protection over all the slayers. Lailoken felt a slight warmth as the spell covered him.

  Lailoken moved a little farther to the right and saw the Jade dragon in a large clearing with a woman trapped in its claws. The half moon gave off enough light for him to see blood running down the woman’s side. The Jade turned its head in Jor’s direction and Lailoken used the opportunity to charge.

  “Now!” he shouted. He raced from the trees with Darlonn and Tozgan behind him. Darlonn screamed something Lailoken couldn’t understand. The dragon turned to them, dropping the woman, and Jor ran from the trees behind it.

  Where’s Ori? Lailoken thought.

  The slayers converged on the Jade dragon. It stood twice as tall as any of them and swiped its long deadly claws at them frantically. They’d caught it off-guard and it was acting by instinct rather than intelligence. Good, Lailoken thought, it’s at our mercy.

  A crossbow bolt flew from the trees and sunk in the dragon’s back. It screamed in agony.

  Lailoken struck first, his sword slicing through the air in a downward arc. The Jade tried to parry the blow with its short arms. The sword clipped the forearm and sunk into its flesh, easily cutting through the thinner scales.

  Jor stabbed the Jade in the back, causing it to scream wildly. It thrashed its arms feebly to remove the iron bolt. Lailoken slashed again, this time slicing along the Jade’s belly. A long, deep gash opened and sprayed hot, thick blood on him. He was vaguely aware of Darlonn slamming into the Jade, sinking his blade into its heart. The Jade screamed again, wildly flailing arms in search of anything to lash out at. Darlonn pulled his sword free and plunged again as Jor held her sword firm inside the dragon’s back. Lailoken pulled his sword free and sliced downward, catching the dragon’s belly again, and carving a deep X into its abdomen.

  “Press harder! Don’t let up the fight!” he called. The dragon shrieked in pain. It had to know its life was at the end. Darlonn continued to strike with his blade, piercing its thick scaly hide. Soon, the Jade gave up the fight, and with a final slice, Lailoken cut along its neck, almost severing its head. Jor pushed forward and the Jade toppled over, nearly falling on Tozgan, who had yet to strike a blow at the thing.

  Lailoken wiped his brow, brushing his long hair back. “Well done!” He pulled his blade free and ran it along his pants, cleaning it of the dragon’s blood. He knelt down beside the woman lying on the ground, Jor joining him.

  “My Menos, we were too late. She’s gone,” Lailoken said, bowing in a quick prayer.

  “Hurry, Belthos! Give me the emeralds now!” Driano raced to the dragon with a fistful of emeralds and thrust them into the bleeding wound, coating his hands in the hot, sticky fluid. He chanted over the body, and a faint green glow covered his hands and the emeralds within as he invoked ancient spells to bind the gems with the dragon’s blood. When he was done, the light dimmed and vanished.

  “Wonderful kill, slayers! This will fetch a fair amount in Woodpine!” Driano smirked. “The Verdant Magus will pay well.”

  The group huddled around the dead dragon, catching their breath, and waiting for Driano to finish. There’d be no sleeping the rest of the night, with the excitement of the kill too powerful for slumber.

  They piled stones and sticks on top of the woman, a quick burial for another Drakku victim.

  CHAPTER

  Thirteen

  Alushia penned the oxen for the night. They were getting more stubborn each day but she was more determined than they and would not let them run her. After the last one was safely within the pen, she closed the gate and trudged home with Brida at her side, her body sore and stiff from working the fields all day, and Brida sharing muted colors of brown and black through a mental bond. The fields were in terrible shape and if they stayed like that, the harvest would be worse than normal and that would mean a long, lean winter.

  Her father promised help, but she sent the workers away. It was her land and her responsibility. If her father decided to leave and shirk his duties at home, she would not make someone else pay for it.

  Arriving home moments before dark, she made a quick meal of barley and ale before cleaning up and laying down on her straw bed. It needed refilling but she was too tired to worry about it for now. Since her father’s departure a week ago, she’d been working the fields alone and even though she was exhausted each night, she feared closing her eyes because of the terrible nightmares awaiting her. She tried to think of beautiful things like flowers and birds and the mid-summer celebration to keep her mind focused to thwart the impending dark dreams. Tonight was no exception as she focused on a field of lilies, swaying in the breeze, and the warm scent of honeysuckle drifting over the plains. She scratched Brida’s head. The large snowcat lay beside the bed.

  Not long after, she fell asleep and the nightmare returned.

  A large black dragon with tattered wings and smoky eyes streaked across the azure sky, bellowing horrifically and frightening her. The scene was a contrast in life. There were snow-capped mountains in the distance and wispy clouds drifting across the bright blue sky. The sun shone down on a land of vibrant greens interspersed with shades of red, orange, and purple. A forest to her left was alive with bird song. A stream flowed gently to her right, down a small hill and emptying somewhere past the horizon. An elk sipped from the stream, flicking its tail against the flies.

  But then the dragon appeared in the sky, a dark cloud of evil against the backdrop of idyllic Tregaron life. It roared again and the elk looked up, water dripping from its chin, then darting across the field seeking shelter. The birds stopped singing, leaving the forest eerily silent.

  The dragon soared in the air, drifting on a wind that wasn’t there. It circled the scene, roaring and belching a plume of wretched smoke, the fumes so bad that Alushia could smell the rottenness coming from within.

  “Go away! Leave this place!” she shouted. The dragon circled her, ignoring her words.

  “Get away from here! You don’t belong!”

  The dragon shot high in the air and plummeted to the ground where it opened its fetid mouth and seemed to devour the very life on the ground, scooping up grass and rocks and cutting a swath across the stream that no longer existed. In its wake, a trail of black nothingness followed as though someone had scratched a large piece of charcoal across the surface. The dragon swallowed the landscape and went back for more, this time cutting through the forest and creating a trail of black across the trees.

  “Stop! You must stop this madness! You shouldn’t be here!”

  Alushia ran toward the dragon, feeling like her feet were floating. As hard as she ran, she didn’t gain ground. It was as though she was stuck in a pool of thick mud.

  The dragon roared again, cutting black lines across the sky. A growing sense of dread filled Alushia, knowing that she could do nothing to stop the evil from spreading. The more of the dream the dragon ate, the more she felt powerless and wanted to weep. She fought the urge, fought against the evil within her mind and focused on something…

  The mid-summer celebration.

  The scene shifted to Kulketh, full of revelers and musicians enticing the crowd to dance. The Magus walked the crowds in search of any merrymakers out of control, yet still generously passing out ale, and even partaking themselves. Alushia danced with a boy she didn’t know, the music lively and fun. The evil that threatened her mind moments ago was now lost and forgotten.

  The dragon.

  Screams to her right stopped her dancing and she watched as the dra
gon devoured the roof of a building and roared before it swooped down to the street and snatched townspeople within its rotten mouth. It flapped its enormous, tattered wings and an oppressive warmth spread over the revelers like a humid summer day.

  “No! Not the people!” she screamed. The dragon roared its reply and continued to destroy all in its path. The evil feeling returned, Alushia’s mind closing in on itself. When the dragon ate the musicians and the music was left hanging in the air, Alushia finally woke.

  Perspiration beaded on her forehead. She turned into her sweat-soaked pillow. Brida’s head popped up, her huge eyes staring at Alushia, furry ears twitching. Alushia tore off the rough sheet and sat up. She dangled her legs over the side of the bed. “What is it? Why do I have these dreams? What evil is this?” she asked Brida, stroking her head. The snowcat gave no impressions or colors to share.

  Alushia was afraid to sleep. She forced herself awake ‘til dawn when the day’s work would start all over again.

  After a quick meal of porridge, Alushia went back to the fields, letting out the oxen and checking for eggs in the chicken coop. She collected a few, as most were cracked and inedible, leaving them in a basket to bring home when the day was done. Then she went to the fields, tending to the rows of barley and wheat that seemed to deny growing from their seeds. Brida ran off, most likely gone for the day in search of game and adventure.

  As the sun ascended in the sky and the heat increased, three mounted riders caught her attention.

  She stood and wiped the sweat off her brow and waited for them to approach. She had only the knife on her belt for protection, and she was proficient in its use.

  A wagon pulled by mules with men dressed in black flowing robes followed the riders. A Magus, she thought. The riders approached and halted, waiting for the wagon to catch up. The Magus stepped down from the wagon, assisted by a novice.

  “Good day, Alushia!” the Magus said. It was the Kull Naga himself—Myrthyd.

  “Good day. What brings you out here to my homestead?”

  She could tell the riders were tower guards by their dress.

  Alushia was concerned. “Is this about my father? Is he…” she paused. “Is he dead?” There had to be no other explanation why she’d receive a visit from the Kull Naga.

  “Dead? No, not at all. At least, not that I know. He should be leading his slayers to the mountains. I expect they’ll be in Woodpine by morrow’s night. I’ve come here for you.” His dark eyes leered at her, making her feel like an animal close to slaughter.

  “Your fields…just like all the rest. I swear, I will find a cure for what ails our land.”

  “What can I do for you, Kull Naga? I’m busy at the moment and have a lot of work to do before nightfall.”

  Myrthyd scanned the field and nodded. “That you do. I thought I sent men to help you?”

  Brida appeared from the fields, a low growl announcing her presence.

  Alushia smiled. “You did, but I can handle my own. I’m capable of tending my own fields.”

  “Well, as that may be so, you should reconsider my offer. It would help you.”

  “I don’t expect you’ve come to talk about why I refuse your assistance.”

  “No, not at all. It’s about your dreams. Come, let’s get out of this sun. You can take time out for me, right?” The stone around his neck glowed slightly, and she was overwhelmed with a desire to leave the sun and dirty fields and take shelter within her home, free of the heat and work.

  “Of course. A break sounds lovely.” Her words sounded false in her ears, but still she wanted to leave and accepted help from one of the guards who lifted her upon his horse and they rode back to her house with Brida loping after them.

  She didn’t remember entering her home, but there she was, seated at the kitchen table with two tower guards and Myrthyd, the Kull Naga of the Order. Myrthyd sat across from her, his gray eyes piercing her soul. Had he always looked so menacing? she wondered.

  “Alushia, your father told me disturbing news of your nightmares. I’m so sorry they’ve plagued you. Can you tell me about them?” He cocked his head, his hard features betraying the false concern he tried to portray. Alushia’s resolve strengthened.

  “I don’t want to talk about it. There’s nothing to say. I don’t know why we’re here, but I need to tend my fields. Please excuse me, but I have to go.”

  Myrthyd turned his head again, tilting it to the other side. Alushia shifted in her seat, an overwhelming dread coming over her. Myrthyd’s stone glowed again, and the need to work the fields dissipated. All she wanted was to talk to Myrthyd.

  “So tell me about those dreams. It’s important to me. I don’t like the loved ones of my prized slayers dealing with such hardships.”

  Alushia couldn’t help herself. She wanted to tell him everything.

  And so she did.

  When she finished, Myrthyd leaned back and crossed his arms, stroking his beard. “A black dragon with tattered wings and smoke for eyes?”

  Alushia nodded. The vision was as real in her head now as it was in the dream. It frightened her to think about it, yet she was compelled to do so out of the burning desire to please Myrthyd.

  “And it ate the dream, you say? How so?”

  “I can’t explain it fully. It was as if someone ran their finger over the ground. Only, it wasn’t a finger. It was the dark dragon eating the images and leaving a trail of nothingness behind. It gave me the strangest feeling of terror, like my mind would soon turn to nothing…like the blackness left by the dragon. When I wake, I’m exhausted as if I had no rest at all.”

  “Interesting,” he said, continuing to stroke his beard.

  The need to share this with Myrthyd vanished and a sudden feeling of guilt and shame came over her. She had no idea why she told the Kull Naga about her dreams. Her face flushed with embarrassment. “I must get to the fields. It’s mid-afternoon and there’s so much to do.”

  “Of course, of course. I don’t want to keep you. Alushia, please reconsider my offer for help. This place is too much to care for on your own. Please, think about it. I hate to see someone as young as you work so hard.”

  “Young as me? You’re the same age as I!” she retorted.

  Myrthyd stood, brushing off his robe as though their conversation left something dirty on him. “That we are. No matter. Refuse the help if you want. I’m only trying to take care of those my slayer deems worthy.”

  “Then what about my mother?” she grumbled under her breath.

  “What was that?” he replied.

  Alushia shook her head. “Nothing. Thank you for your visit and concern for me. I’ll be fine on my own. I have been for years. This is no different.”

  The guards led the way, and soon all three were out the door. She listened as the men climbed into their saddles and the horses trotted away. With her eyes closed, Alushia tried to recall why Myrthyd had even come there and what their conversation was about. The events of the past few hours were cloudy in her head and left nothing but a shadow of darkness and fear.

  “I can’t waste more time dealing with that, whatever it was,” she said to Brida. The snowcat yawned. There was work to be done, and daylight waited for no one.

  CHAPTER

  Fourteen

  Two days after killing the Jade dragon, Lailoken and the rest of the hunting party entered the gates of Woodpine and enjoyed a night of drinking and telling tales of past adventures at the Dancing Bear, the largest tavern in the city. Belthos was even given a mug or two of ale to the dismay of Driano. They shared tales of past hunts with each other, Tozgan with the most experience killing a variety of dragons, while Lailoken was the most prolific of all of them, despite hunting mainly Onyx dragons.

  “Lai, we’ve been on the hunt for close to four years now,” Jor said, her speech slurring, “Wh…why not give it up?”

  Lailoken drank from his mug, slamming it down on the table. “Etain. I hunt for Etain. One day, I’ll find the beasts that s
tole her and I’ll finally end my days as a slayer.”

  “To Etain!” Darlonn said, raising his mug. A wide grin creased his dark face. The rest did the same and they toasted to her memory. After they drank, Lailoken collected himself.

  “We must rest, for on the morrow we enter the mountains. The great hunt is here, my friends. We have a great foe waiting for us. We’ll have a long journey ahead as we search for what might be the most powerful dragon we’ve ever seen, hidden in a cave on a mountain I’ve never heard of. Opaline. Opaline Mountain. Where is that?” He nearly fell off his chair, much to Jor’s amusement. She laughed and almost fell out of her own seat as well.

  “I may know a man who lives here that can help,” Driano said over a mug of ale, his serious tone contrasting sharply with that of the group.

  Lailoken arched an eyebrow. “Is that so?”

  “I have connections.”

  “The Kull…” he said, pausing. He was ordered never to say a word of their true mission. But if he was going to ask them to lay down their lives out of trust, he felt better being honest with them. What could it hurt? Even Driano had a right to know. Myrthyd might get angry, but they were far from the Black Tower, and once they found what they were looking for, he needed to know they would be prepared for anything.

  Lailoken glanced at the tables around them and leaned in closer, continuing.

  “The Kull wants a gem hidden within the Dragonback. A kind of Blood Stone or something. It’s hidden in a cave, protected by some kind of guardian. We’re here to slay the guardian. We’ve been chosen because we’re the best! Our mission,” his voice dropped to a whisper, “is to retrieve this rock and bring it back. It is the key to reversing the blight upon our lands. Our crops will grow once more. Our people will not starve. More importantly, once this hunt is over, none of us will have to work again. We’ll get a chance to grow fat and old, living off the money we earn.”

  Lailoken smiled and waved for another mug of ale. The stunned group stared at him, Driano leaning closer.

 

‹ Prev