Return of the Dragon (The Dragon's Champion Book 6) (25 page)

Maernok gave one mighty swing, chopping through one
and into the other. Their bodies tumbled from the boardwalk to land in the
yellow, soft soil near the geyser. A moment later, one of the corpses slipped
into the geyser, causing it to boil over and erupt.

The orc sprinted on into the chamber. It was not as
open as he had thought it would be. There appeared to be a great energy barrier
covering most of the entrance. He inspected the wall and found large hunks of
rock that had fallen away, creating a small hole in the barrier. It wasn’t
large enough for him to fit through, but he knew that time was short. He went
to work pulling heavy stones free from the wall until he had an opening large
enough to slip through without touching the magical wall.

He crept quickly along the wall, keeping low to avoid
any unwanted attention.

His eyes soon adjusted to the darkness in the chamber.
He could see a strange black, red, and green light over an altar of stone. It
was swirling in a column. The column then moved down, as if sucked into the
altar. When the strange light had vanished, Maernok saw Gilifan standing near
the altar. He was exhausted, his chest heaving for breath and his weight
leaning upon his arms against the altar.

Maernok glanced around the chamber. He saw no sign of
a dragon. In fact, he saw no one else in the entire chamber. The meddler was
vulnerable. This was his chance.

The orc abandoned his silent approach and dashed
directly for the altar. His footsteps resounded through the chamber and he
lifted his sword into a striking position.

Gilifan looked up from the altar. His sweaty face
turned into an angry scowl and he raised a hand. The hand lifted a yellow
amulet. “You are mine, Maernok!” Gilifan shouted weakly.

Maernok ran on, unaware that the amulet was trying to
seize control over him. The orc covered several yards before the necromancer
set the amulet down and lifted his other hand. A blue fireball appeared and
flew toward Maernok. The orc dodged it easily. Gilifan tried again, but Maernok
easily out maneuvered the spell. Maernok leapt over the altar and landed a
solid flying kick to Gilifan’s chest. The necromancer flew back three yards and
slammed to the ground, striking his head on the stone floor of the cavern.

“I told you I would kill you,” Maernok growled.

Gilifan laughed. “I will be reborn, and I will have
you anyway,” he said. “You are too late to stop me.”

Maernok walked up slowly. He drew his own sword and
pierced Gilifan’s right leg with it. Gilifan groaned and grimaced. His face
turned into a snarl. “I want to hear you scream,” Maernok said. “Come on now,
wizard, give me a scream.”

“You are a fool,” Gilifan replied through gritted
teeth. “It is over. You have sold your people for revenge. Nothing will save
them from their fate. So tell me, great and honorable orc, which of us is the
greater sinner now?”

Maernok flipped Salarion’s scimitar upside down and
held it over Gilifan’s heart. “Salarion sends her regards,” he said. The point
of the blade came down, ripping through sinew and breaking bones apart until it
stabbed through the back and blasted the stone beneath. “Now all is as it should
be, and you are pinned like the spider you are,” Maernok said.

He looked down and saw the yellow amulet lying on the
ground. He bent down to pick it up. He turned the item over in his hands and
felt a strange, entrancing power emanating from it. For a moment the thought
came to him that he could use the power to subjugate the humans and reclaim the
orcish lands for his own people.

No. His honor wouldn’t let him do such a thing.
Khullan demanded courage and honor, not subterfuge and cowardice. Maernok turned
around to set the amulet upon the altar. If he could, he would shatter the gem
and destroy it.

He barely saw the silver flash that came over the
altar. Something warm pressed through his chest with a force so strong that it
stopped him where he stood. With eyes wide he looked down to see the thick,
silvery talon turning red with his blood. He followed the talon upward with his
eyes, surveying the massive leg and shoulder of a great dragon. When he saw the
gray eyes staring back at him, he knew his life was finished. His limbs began
to feel cold and weak.

Maernok reached down, pulling his sword free from
Gilifan’s leg. He raised it up high and with his last bit of strength he
shouted out and brought the sword down upon the talon. Sparks exploded from the
blade when the steel connected with the dragon’s talon. In the end, the dragon
was stronger. The sword shattered and Maernok hung limply from Tu’luh’s talon.
The amulet fell to the ground unharmed.

“Foolish orc,” Tu’luh growled as he flung the corpse
aside.

Tu’luh slipped the amulet around his talon and set it
upon the altar. It was then that his gray eyes noticed Salarion’s sword. A
wicked sneer appeared over his metallic features. “So the she-elf was the
traitor to Nagar,” he mused. “Interesting that she would risk so much to come
back and try again.” He turned his head to the entryway and with a single
thought he dispelled the magical barrier. He then looked to the amulet.

Then he let his vision shift so that he could see the
fallen souls in the chamber. Gilifan stood smug next to Maernok. The orc had
his arms folded over his chest, obviously displeased at seeing Gilifan in the
afterlife.

“Raise me again master,” Gilifan said. “I will use the
amulet to bring us glory. Salarion altered the spell, but I was able to save a
part of it in my amulet.”

Tu’luh shook his head. “You have served your purpose,
Gilifan,” he said. “I no longer require your service.”

A grin appeared on Maernok’s face. “Raise me, dragon.”

Tu’luh turned to the orc. “I would raise you again,
but I see that Salarion has imbued your spirit with that of her father. This
gave you immunity to my spell. I do not care for rebellious soldiers. You shall
wait here until Khefir comes for you.”

Maernok stood firm. “Afraid of an orc?” he taunted.

Tu’luh laughed. “I like your tenacity, but I shall not
be wasting my efforts on you, as fun as it may be to raise you and kill you
again.”

“I served faithfully,” Gilifan screeched. “How can you
betray me?”

Tu’luh bent his head low to address the ghost wizard. “You
are also immune to the spell, since you are the one who enacted it with me.
More worrisome than that is your propensity for seeking power. Better to have
no friends at all, than a false servant who would stab at my back.”

“But I haven’t!” Gilifan screamed. “I have been
faithful!”

“You are a schemer,” Tu’luh replied. “Schemers are
what will end the world. Each one tries to subdue the next, without any regard
for order.” Tu’luh shook his head. “You will also wait for Khefir. I am sure he
will be quite pleased to take your soul down to Hammenfein.”

Gilifan was silenced. He looked to the floor and shook
his head.

Tu’luh came in closer. “I will tell you who will take
your place, if you want to know.” The dragon didn’t bother waiting for Gilifan
to respond. He grinned wider and whispered, “Salarion shall be raised up as my
new servant.”

The dragon then turned, grabbed the amulet with his
teeth, and walked out of the chamber. He was still weak, and his body needed
rest, but he was strong enough for this. It was the perfect solution. Each
person who had, or would have, betrayed him was now conquered. The fact that
Nagar’s daughter would be raised again to serve under the influence of the
spell as his right hand officer made the victory all that more delectable.

Tu’luh was now the undisputed king. He would rule the
world by talon and fang. None could stop him now. Tu’luh walked down the
corridor. The large dragon stepped over the geysers, feeling the heat and the
moisture. When he saw the dark elf’s body he smiled. Using the power of the
amulet, he bent down and touched Salarion’s body with a single talon. A ghastly
green vapor emitted from the amulet sinking down through the air until it
reached Salarion’s nostrils. The green vapor moved into the body, calling back
the spirit that had once inhabited the mortal shell. Salarion’s eyes opened.

Tu’luh looked at the dark elf and smiled wide. His
forked tongue flickered out as he tasted her fear when she recognized his face.
He turned his head to the side and said, “I shall take great pleasure in having
you serve me.”

“Please don’t,” Salarion begged. Salarion squirmed
before the dragon.

Tu’luh laughed,
then
he let
the full power of the amulet take hold over Salarion’s heart. The dark elf was
now his. He delighted to see the single tear streaking down her face as her
freedom, her very will, was stripped from her and subjugated to the mighty
dragon.

Njar looked at the young wizard Aparen. Aparen sat at
the table eating his breakfast. “Aparen, it is time. Are you ready to help me
balance the realm?”

“I am ready,” Aparen said. The young wizard stood from
the table and pushed his plate of eggs and bacon away from him. He stepped
around the table and moved toward the satyr.

Njar nodded. The satyr pulled a small box out of a
pouch hanging from his belt. He put the box on the table. “There is no ritual
here. All that you need to do is pull the obsidian vial out of the box and
drink the contents.”

As Aparen moved his hand toward the box his fingers
trembled slightly. He could almost feel the power emanating from the box. He
pulled a small pen made of bone out of a leather loop to unlock the lid. He
opened the lid to peer inside. Nestled inside a bed of red velvet was
a large
obsidian vile. “Is this going to hurt?”

Njar sighed. He shrugged his furry shoulders and shook
his head. “I don’t think it will, but I cannot be certain. If you wish to seek
balance you will need to drink the contents of this vile.”

Aparen hesitated. He thought about opening the vile
and drinking its contents, but he did not want to feel the way he felt during
the ritual in the coven so long ago. The thought of stealing another’s power
now was not as tempting to him as it once had been. The thought of being pained
to grow stronger was also a thought he didn’t relish.

The satyr moved forward and placed a thick furry hand
on Aparen’s shoulder. “I know this is a hard thing, but there is no other way.
We have trained for this. Dremathor believed you had the potential to complete
this task. You should know that a great deal of planning and forethought went
in to your selection. However, the choice is always
yours,
otherwise there would be no balance. If you choose to back out now, then I will
not force you to drink the contents of this vile.” Njar held up a warning
finger and looked into Aparen’s eyes sternly. “But know this, if you do not
drink the vile no other is prepared to do so. Without you, this war cannot be
won.”

Aparen looked at the satyr and studied his eyes for a
long time. He looked into the golden orbs seeking truth. Aparen was unsure,
even now, whether the satyr truly had his best interest at heart. The young
wizard knew all too well that this could also be manipulation. He was so very
tired of being other people’s pawn. Still, he could not deny the words that
Njar had spoken. He knew this was going to be a monumental task, one that would
possibly stretch him beyond his limits.

In that moment, his thoughts turned to his mother.
What would she say? What would she advise him to do? The answer was already
obvious. Though he had been raised in a proud house, his mother had taught him
selflessness. Guilt crept into his heart then, for he knew that he had only
been acting selfishly in the last many months. He could not remember the last
time he had acted selflessly.

Today, he was going to become a new man.

He reached into the box and opened the obsidian vile.
He pressed it to his lips and tipped his head backward so that the content
spilled down his throat. The texture was like sand and the taste was far beyond
bitter. He could almost feel the screams of the dying man whose power had been
sucked into the vile. He felt both heat and cold spreading through his body.
These two sensations rippled through him, battling each other and fighting for
dominance of his veins, limbs, and organs. As the two sensations subsided, they
were replaced with numbness.
A feeling of utter deadness.

The light around him became dark. His head became
faint and his vision blurred. The strength in his legs began to give out. For a
moment he felt the sensation of falling,
then
he felt
a pair of hands catch him from behind.

“This will pass Aparen,” Njar said. “Now you will sleep,
as your new power begins to take root in your body. I will return tomorrow when
you are rested and you will begin your journey.”

*****

Aparen opened his eyes and sat up from his bed. He
felt the strange new energy running through him. More than that, he had a
wealth of new knowledge and skills flooding his mind. As had happened before
when he absorbed energies from other beings, he gained all of the abilities and
experiences in this new gift of power. He was still himself, but it was as if
he had also lived the life of each shadowfiend whose power had been captured in
the vial. This new enlightenment brought him to a much higher level of
understanding and empathy than he had ever dreamed possible.

It was Dremathor’s experience that struck him most. He
could see memories of Erik’s birth, and shared in the feeling of loss that
Dremathor had felt when the baby was stolen away from him. Aparen had to
quickly take control over his thoughts and feelings, pushing the new memories
aside and compartmentalizing them in order to maintain control over his mind.

It was as if not only his mind but his very body and
soul had been expanded, strengthened. He stood up and pointed his finger at the
table across the room. He did not speak any words, he only thought of a spell
he wished to cast. The table ignited into green flames that danced high up to
the ceiling scorching the room and sending smoke up into the air. Aparen waved
his hand and the fire not only died, but the table was restored as if it had
never been touched. Aparen grinned. He moved to walk toward the table, but
instead he found his feet stepping upon air. He stopped moving his legs and
instead used his mind to levitate and float over toward the table. He descended
down with hardly a thought. “I could get used to this.”

Njar opened the door. “I would appreciate it if you
did not burn my furniture.”

Aparen shrugged and laughed. “I didn’t mean any
harm,
I just felt the urge to try out some of these new
powers. Though the spells I know are all the same, they come to me much easier
now and I can use them with more
efficacy
.”

“Yes, that is the way it should be.” Njar nodded and
motioned to the door. “Aparen, it is time to send you on your way. Nagar’s
magic has been unleashed. The necromancer Gilifan and the dragon Tu’luh have
ushered in an era of darkness that must be quenched. Tu’luh cannot be allowed
to rule.”

“Where shall I go?”

Njar spread a map over the table and pointed to an old
city. “This is Pinkt’Hu. The dragon is there. However, by the time you reach
them, Tu’luh will already be gone. From what I can see, the necromancer
Gilifan,
has been killed. The dragon now acts alone. Your
job is to wipe the city and all of its inhabitants off of the map.”

“
Njar, that
is not what I was
trained for. I thought I was to bring balance to the realm.”

Njar raised his hands, patting the air and shaking his
head. “You do not understand. The spell has warped every living soul in that
city. None of them have free will. They are all subject to the dragon under the
curse that he and Nagar designed. To bring balance again, means that you must
destroy the city and everyone therein.”

“Is there no other way?”

“You do not have the magic necessary to reverse the
curse. In fact, no such magic exists that would reverse the curse in full. All
those who are under the spell must be killed. Even if they are allowed to live,
they will die when the curse dies. Therefore, let the Champion of Truth perform
his job, while you perform yours. By restoring balance, and killing those who
have fallen prey to the curse, you will save many lives. The dragon would use
these cursed men to fight in his army. If you destroy them, then his army is
that much weaker.”

Aparen nodded hesitantly. “I understand. How do I get
there from here?”

Njar stepped toward Aparen and put a hand upon his
shoulder. “If you are ready to go now, then I can send you through a portal.”

The young wizard looked into Njar’s golden eyes and
placed his right hand upon Njar’s left shoulder. “I will do what I can to
restore balance.”

Njar leaned in, placing his forehead on Aparen’s. “May
you have success, and find balance and peace for your own soul as you seek to
restore balance to the Middle Kingdom.”

Njar pushed Aparen away. In his left hand appeared his
staff out of thin air. Njar tapped the staff on the floor three times. On the
ground appeared a red circle. The circle expanded, humming and crackling as it
moved across the floor, until it reached the size of a well. A column of yellow
light rose up from the floor, stretching toward the ceiling. The yellow light
hummed as it waived and danced before them. Njar then tipped the head of his
staff to the column of light and a clap of thunder shook the room. Aparen could
see the city of Pinkt’Hu through the column of light. A small hole appeared in
the center of the column of light, roughly at the level of Aparen’s head. The
hole expanded, creating a large window that opened up onto the street near the
dock of Pinkt’Hu. Aparen did not need to be told what to do. He took in a deep
breath of courage, and stepped through the portal.

The wind rushed around him, both sucking him in and
pushing against him as he passed through the portal. He could feel the cool air
upon his skin as he stepped out of the portal. His skin felt the rain dropping
from the sky and his nose smelled the scent of freshly wet stone and earth. He
saw a score of people standing in the street. They looked at him, but they did
not react immediately. The expressions on their faces were blank. They looked
as though they were nothing more than shells of people. There was no
anger,
there was no fear, there was nothing. Aparen felt
pity for these men from the depths of his soul, but he did not let that stop
him in his mission.

Aparen considered for a moment as he took in his
surroundings, and decided the best way to destroy the city would be in his
shadowfiend form. He unleashed his power, transforming into the hideous, spiked
monster that lusted for blood and power. Only this time, he felt much more
control over the desires and the lusts that the beast created within him. Now
he was the master, even in this form.

He spread his wings and flew into the air, raining
fireballs from his hands and the sky. Out from his mouth issued a vapor of mist
that poisoned and gagged all who were unfortunate enough to be caught in its
wake. He then sent a fireball down to ignite the vapor. With a frightening
whoosh, the flames roared up into the sky, ripping through flesh, objects and
buildings alike.

The young wizard was startled by the lack of screams
or shouts as his fire tore through the city. It seemed that not only did these
zombies have no control over their
willpower,
they
either felt no pain or their souls were already dead.

Soon arrows fired up toward him. Aparen could not know
whether the zombies were defending themselves of their own choice, or whether
Tu’luh had somehow commanded them to attack. Either way, it made little
difference. Aparen created a shield around himself, vaporizing any arrow or
missile that sailed toward him. In addition to the fires, he brought tornadoes
from the East and cyclones from the West. The ships in the harbor cracked and
began to sink while the city walls and the buildings within crumbled and were
thrown into each other. Never before had Aparen felt such tremendous power. He
felt unstoppable.
Invincible.
Now he had everything he
had sought. He had the power to finally crush Erik. Still, he had made a
wizard’s oath, and he knew he couldn’t do that.

Within minutes, all of Pinkt’Hu was ablaze. Aparen had
destroyed everything within the city as well as anything within a four mile
radius before the day was done. The fires rose high into the sky and the ash
and smoke darkened the sun creating a night before the sunset. When it was
finished, Aparen sat upon the mountain, the same mountain that held the orcish
fortress within, and watched the burning fires. He wasn’t sure what to feel, or
what to think. He just watched the rising flames and let himself be lost in the
pink and red firestorms.

He didn’t expect Njar to appear next to him at that
time, and startled when the satyr walked through a portal as calm and confident
as he ever was.

“Your power is tremendous,” Njar said, observing the
scene below them. “It is far beyond even what I thought it could be.”

“I have more still to use,” Aparen said. “There is
more to me now than fire or monster.”

The satyr nodded knowingly. He pointed to Aparen’s
chest and tapped lightly on it. “There is one more thing that you should know.”

“What else could there be?” Aparen sighed. He looked
down to the ground and then up to the flames of the city far beyond the
mountain.

“Have you heard of the Sahale?” Without waiting for an
answer, he continued. “It is a kind of half breed.
A mix of a
dragon and a human.”
  Njar tore his gaze away from the burning city
to regard Aparen. “Erik is one of them. This is what grants him immunity from
Nagar’s Secret.”

“Why find me to tell me this?” Aparen asked.