“I’ve come to see the Kull Naga. He’s a friend of mine.”
The other guard--shorter, rounder, and older--laughed. “You think we’re gonna let anyone who claims to be a friend of the Kull pass through these doors? You hear her, Ryn?”
The first guard, the one with the blue eyes that she couldn’t tear her gaze from, smiled. “I do, Blart. She can pass.” The older guard protested, but Ryn opened the door and allowed her passage.
Alushia didn’t move at first. Ryn captivated her.
“Are you gonna stand there all night? I swear, Ryn, if you don’t stop all the ladies staring at you, I’m gonna pluck out your eyes myself!”
Ryn shook his head and waved Alushia in. Once inside, she turned back to the guards and caught Ryn smiling at her. Then he closed the door. Alushia felt her skin grow warm, but it wasn’t from anger or the dragon blood boiling within her. It was a reaction to the man; one she’d never felt before. Looking around inside the tower, she wondered why she was even there. Then it struck her. She was there to find Myrthyd and see if she could discern anything from him.
Magus and their visitors milled around the central hall. There weren’t as many as she expected. Music drifted through the hall and pulled her attention toward its source. She walked along the stone hallway, gazing at the tapestries hung on either side depicting the Dragonback Mountains and slayers doing the bidding of the Order, always with a Magus looking on with approval. As she neared the end of the hall, the music swelled. Magus in dark green robes floated in and out of the imposing wooden doors, and at one point she glimpsed inside. The hall was filled with Magus. A long line headed for the main table where she thought she saw the Kull Naga himself. She didn’t want to be seen, so stayed to the side and listened to the conversations around her.
“Can you believe he showed without a warning? I think he’s here to spy on the Verdant Tower. I never trusted him,” a male novice said to a female novice. It startled Alushia at first until she remembered that only the Black Tower never accepted females. All the rest were mixed, but she’d never seen a female Magus.
The two male novices on the other side of her were drinking ale and growing louder and more boisterous. “Claims to a gem of some sort, I hear. What’s it do? Only Menos knows,” one novice said.
The other replied, “I hear he’s got that slayer Lailoken out hunting for it. Why would he send a slayer on a treasure hunt? Don’t make sense to me. I think there’s more to it. Seen them griffons? Bad signs happening. Bad signs, I say.”
Alushia carefully moved toward the door to the Great Hall, wary of being seen by Myrthyd. She wanted to discover what he knew about her father but without attracting his attention.
“Hey, what are you doing?” someone called. She turned and Blart was pointing at her. “Yes, you! What are you doing?” Alushia’s skin warmed. All eyes turned toward her.
“Me? I’m here to see the Kull. He’s a friend.”
Blart ambled in her direction. “Then why are you slinking around like a cat hiding from the master of the house? What are you doing?”
“Nothing. I’m just—”
“She’s fine, Blart. Leave the girl alone.” Ryn! “She’s not done anything to earn your ire. Let her be. If you keep on shouting like that, they won’t let us in and our replacements will want us to return.” He ushered Blart through the doors and winked at Alushia. Her heart leapt in her chest. Who was this man that stirred these primal feelings?
Blart reluctantly let Ryn guide him to the feast. Alushia watched the two heap their plates with vegetables and slices of pork from the five roasted hogs on the serving table. It was more food than she’d seen in a long time and would have been better used for the people outside the Tower.
By the time she stopped staring at the two of them, she realized Myrthyd was gone. Fearing he might find her, she scurried away through the doors now guarded by Blart and Ryn’s replacements and kept going until she was back at the inn. It was silly of her to act as though Myrthyd even cared she was there, but the fear at being noticed gnawed at her. Something about the Kull scared her; even more so since his last visit and their discussion about Avess.
CHAPTER
Thirty-Five
Lailoken kept the Blood Stone in a pocket normally reserved for dracs inside his heavy fur cloak. This was much more precious than a few bits of gold. But who was it important to?
If Myrthyd got his hands on the gem, he was certain something evil was to come of it. Even before Driano’s declaration, he knew it held a sinister power. Ever since he held it, danger and dread hung over him. It made no sense. He was a dragonslayer by nature, sworn to hunt for their blood. The Order required it for their stones. They were forbidden from slaying the things themselves, a prohibition Lailoken never understood. If they needed the blood so bad, they should do the deed.
“Come on, this way. I really want to enjoy a good mug of ale and a warm bed,” Jor said. She led them through the mountains toward the main pass to Woodpine. They were two days removed from Dragonfire Peak, or Opaline Mountain as it must have once been called, and they were slowly trekking through narrow passes and snowy ledges. The wind swirled around them and even with Driano’s magically created heat, they were still frozen to the bone.
“Aren’t we close to the road yet?” Belthos asked. Since the cavern, he realized he would never be a Magus. If Driano ever made it back to the Black Tower, he’d renounce the boy and that would be it. Belthos recognized this and broke from his usually subdued self, Driano’s threats no longer meaningful.
Lailoken watched Driano tense as if to smack the boy. The last time he’d done that, Jor nearly gutted him because Belthos was no longer his novice. It wouldn’t be official until they returned, but in the mountainous wilds, the relationship was severed.
“Not quite,” Ori said. He and Tozgan were at the back of the group, Tozgan still sore from their earlier encounter. Despite the vicious blow from the man in the tunnel, Jor carried on like nothing hurt. Lailoken assumed she did, but he also knew Jor wouldn’t dwell on pain and let it consume her.
The day wore on, Belthos continuing to ask if they were close. Lailoken almost wished the boy was still under Driano’s thumb and kept quiet.
Near late afternoon, a loud roar echoed through the mountains. Jor froze, holding up a hand for the others to do the same. Lailoken scanned the skies for the dragon. Then cresting over a nearby peak, something appeared, but it wasn’t a dragon.
“What is that?” Belthos asked.
“By Menos, it can’t be!” Driano replied. Lailoken knew exactly what it was.
“I’ve not seen one of those in a long, long time,” Tozgan said.
“Griffons,” Lailoken added. “Another halfling.”
They watched as the griffon flew across the sky, soon joined by three more. They roared and sounded like dragons, but they were much smaller; half their size. The griffons flew north.
“Are they coming to Tregaron?” Jor asked.
“When was the last time a griffon bothered to cross these mountains into our land?” Ori asked.
Lailoken felt the gem within his cloak vibrate and warm. He pulled it free and the bluish ball inside dashed back and forth, madly careening this way and that. He looked up at the griffons and back to the gem. “None of this is right.”
Driano clapped him on the shoulder, careful to keep his distance from the gem. “I fear we’ve unleashed a horror on this world unlike anything it has ever known.”
“Then why don’t we get rid of it?” Jor asked. “If this thing is so wrong, why do we still have it?”
“Darlonn died for this. Myrthyd wants it so bad that he sent sell-swords to take it. We must find a way to destroy it so it no longer entices evil to surface,” Lailoken replied.
“How do you know so much about it? You’re a slayer!” Ori said.
“Lailoken is right. This is an instrument of evil,” Driano said.
“But I don’t understand,” Jor said. “How is it y
ou both have come to the conclusion that the gem is evil? I held it. It didn’t feel like anything special to me. I didn’t get a sense that the world was coming to an end. It’s just a gem, forged over time by the pressures of the rocks around it. Nothing more. And why call it evil? Aren’t we sworn to kill dragons?”
Lailoken shrugged. “I wish I knew why or how I know. It’s a feeling…a deep, horrific feeling that something bad is going to happen.”
Jor shook her head. “You make no sense. Where’s the Lai I knew before we came out here? Next, you’re gonna tell me you don’t slay dragons anymore.”
The griffons roared again, cutting off the conversation. They crossed over a northern mountain and were gone.
“Can we get food soon? I’m starving,” Belthos said. The urge to smack the boy was strong with Lailoken. He was coming to understand why Driano was so hard on him.
Jor spotted a clearing near the bottom of the mountain. “We’ll get there and stay the night. We’re close now. It won’t be long.”
They pushed through the narrow passes and made camp for the night, the group unusually quiet through the dark, cold night.
When they set off the following morning, the skies were dark and a storm was threatening. The forest at the bottom of the mountains was close. The thick brush and dark green leaves were just on the horizon from where they stood.
“Let’s hope we get there before this storm does,” Lailoken said.
“Pah! What’s a little rain?” Jor asked with a smile. Lailoken smiled in reply.
Since the day before, the tension was heavy in the group, but once morning’s light awakened them, it dissipated some. Maybe it was spotting the forest and knowing they were close to done in the mountains; maybe it was something else. Whatever the cause, Lailoken welcomed it.
Thunder boomed beyond them. Lailoken turned, half expecting to find an Opal dragon, maybe even Chepon, racing toward them. Then it hit him that the Opal guardian of the gem was now trapped inside his cloak. The bluish streak that darted across the gem was Chepon. It had to be. What else could explain what had happened?
Jor hurried the pace. “I don’t want that storm to ruin this good mood!” she called over the loud rumbling thunder. Even Driano moved with a quickness he rarely exhibited. Before long, they were at the edge of the forest and the storms appeared to have moved west.
“Through here and we’re almost home. At least we’ll be in a city where I can get some ale. And food. And a nice place to sleep,” Jor said.
“’Tis true I could use ale, as well,” Lailoken replied. He’d not had a drop in weeks, and the thought of it made his mouth water.
“What do we do when we get back? I was promised a lot of dracs for this gem. If you decide to destroy it, then what? Where’s my money?” Tozgan asked.
“I will pay you what you earned,” Driano said before Lailoken could reply. “I will make sure you’re all compensated for your time and efforts.”
“What about Darlonn? What are you gonna do for him?” Jor asked, turning on the Magus and holding her finger at his chest.
“His passing was an unfortunate event. We all knew coming here was a risk. Every hunt is,” Driano said. “But we must go on.”
“Easy for a Magus to say; you don’t kill dragons. You play in their blood with your precious gems to make yourselves more powerful. Try doing the dirty work sometime,” Jor grumbled.
“Jor, enough. This has been difficult on all of us. The sooner we get back, the sooner we put this behind us,” Lailoken said.
Jor turned to him. “You’re taking his side now?”
“No, but we have to work together and not accuse each other of things we have no control over. What’s done is done. I’ll forever carry Darlonn’s death with me. He was one of the finest slayers I ever knew, and one of my closest friends.”
“Yeah, sure,” Jor replied in a soft voice. “Let’s get going, then.”
She shifted the pack on her shoulder, heading toward the path leading to Woodpine. The rest of the group stood quietly watching her leave. Finally she turned back.
“Are you idiots coming or not?”
Lailoken smiled and he caught a flash of one cross Jor’s face. They’d be fine. Eventually.
CHAPTER
Thirty-Six
Myrthyd sat meditating in his cozy room. He’d read through the Nightwraith spell more times than he could count, nearly memorizing the entire passage, the words flashing in his mind as though burned into his brain. A small candle the only source of light, he opened his eyes and watched the flame flicker.
“Soon, I will be the flame that ignites Rowyth to a greater inferno. My conquest of the southern lands begins with the Blood Stone.” Obsessed by the promise of power, Myrthyd’s every waking moment was consumed by thoughts of the gem. Why had the Order of old hidden such a powerful tool? Why had they resisted using it to further their cause? “Because they were weak and unambitious. When an orphaned child becomes Kull Naga, what else can he do to attain power?” he asked the flame.
A light knock on his door interrupted his thoughts.
“Kull Naga?” the voice of a sweet young boy called. “Kull Naga? Are you…are you awake?” the boy called through the thick wooden door.
“Come in,” he replied.
Slowly the heavy door opened and a young apprentice, new to the order by the looks of him, crept inside.
“K-K-Kull Naga? I hate to disturb you, sir. Magus Menathon sent me. The guards report griffons have flown over the wall into Tregaron.”
“Griffons? Are you sure, boy?”
The boy, no older than ten, averted eye contact and studied the stone floor instead. “Yes, sir. Griffons.”
Myrthyd stroked his scraggly bearded chin. “Not a promising sign at all.” But proves the need for the Blood Stone, he thought. This might be a serendipitous moment for him.
“Thank you, boy. Let Magus Menathon know I’m concerned about this development.”
“Yes, sir. I will. He’s also told me to tell you that a small party of warriors are nearing the wall. They come from the forest.”
Could it be that Lailoken has found the Blood Stone?
“Are you sure that was the message? Tell me, boy! I must know!”
“Yes, sir. Magus Menathon made me repeat it to him. He believes it is your slayer Lailoken, as we have no slayers in the mountains.”
Myrthyd rubbed his hands together and grinned. “Thank you, boy. You may leave me.” The boy bowed and scurried out of the room.
With the glee of a boy after his first kiss, Myrthyd gathered his cloak and gems, soon to be replaced by a powerful weapon, and called to his two guards at either end of the hall.
“Come. It’s time we collect what we came for.” They followed him through the maze of stone halls, interested verdant Magus watching the small retinue, and bowing as they passed. It was mid-morning and most should be in training or studies, though there seemed to be an exceptionally large number of Magus and novices throughout the Tower not where they should be.
I’ll need to enforce order on this Tower, Myrthyd thought as he passed one too many Magus lounging. Order will come to all the Towers.
By the time he left the southern entrance, he’d collected the other guards from the Black Tower and they swiftly crossed the Tower grounds headed for the gate to the Dragonback Mountains. He left Tukra behind to stave off questions. His guards said nothing. The compulsion spell was now automatic for him and they blindly followed him, even if he said nothing to them. What began as a tool to assist others in making a decision had become second nature for him and he used it more often than not.
The wall dominated the southern border. It was almost as tall as the Verdant Tower and men walked along the top with their attention to the south. Small fires burned at regular intervals along the top where guards huddled for warmth.
Townsfolk gave them a wide berth, their black armor and long flowing black robe a sign that they were not from Woodpine; the lightning bolt
s embroidered on the back of Myrthyd’s robe also a clear sign of who he was. Whispers and gestures aimed at them persisted, but it only made Myrthyd smile, knowing one day he’d be calling on them to march south through the mountains.
When they reached the gate on the far southern end of the city, the Verdant guards attempted to block their passage.
“Halt! What business do you have in the mountains?”
Myrthyd approached the guard, who immediately recognized him.
“My apologies, Kull, I wasn’t sure who was hurrying this way.” The guard bowed.
“I forgive your insolence this time. What news have you of griffons and a hunting party?”
“Yesterday evening while the feast was going on, we spotted four griffons crossing the mountains and go northwest. My guess is they were headed for the western sea. I haven’t seen griffons cross these mountains since I was a boy.”
Human halflings were an abomination. Griffons, the halflings created by dragon and lion were a disgusting mating of species. They were brainless, grunt-like animals with the intellect of a rock. The last thing Tregaron needed was more Drakku influence.
Myrthyd narrowed his eyes. “What about the slayers?”
“They are a few hours away at best. We’ve spotted them through the forest and they’re headed in our direction.”
“Good, good,” Myrthyd said. He turned back to his guards and then to the gate. “Let us pass. We must meet with them. We shall forge our way ahead and greet them back to the city.”
“But Kull, I would ask that you reconsider. It’s dangerous beyond the wall. Many creatures stalk unknown in the forest. Dragons roam free. Exiled Tregarons turn wild out there. It’s not safe.”
The gem hanging around Myrthyd’s neck glowed slightly. “You will let us pass.”
The guard smiled. “Men, open the gate and allow them to pass.” The four guards slid back the heavy iron locks. They pulled on one of the large wooden gates, each slat thick as a hundred-year-old tree. It took all of them to open the door. It creaked and groaned but opened enough to allow them passage.
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