The Dragon God (Book 2) (28 page)

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Authors: Brae Wyckoff

BOOK: The Dragon God (Book 2)
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Dal-Draydian’s voice slipped in, soothing and confident,
“I know your pains, Trillius. It is time for you to make your father proud of you as I am proud of you. We are now family, something you have always wanted. Take your destiny back and be free from the bondage of your past.”

Trillius lifted his tear streaked face, slowly smiled and took his first step onto the arch.

The black robed mystic stood with the assassin, Daysho Gunsen, and two other hired bodyguards on a ledge overlooking the Guul-Fenn Mountains. Before them, waited an icicle covered cave entrance.

“Raina was here. I can smell her lingering magic,” Veric’s words bit like the cold wind.

“I will retrieve the last of the stones from the gnome,” Daysho responded.

Veric pointed toward the opening, like a commander giving orders. The two leather-armored humans nodded and entered, followed by the assassin and the wizard.

Daysho approached the hour that would change his life forever. It had taken him years to gain Veric’s trust. The wizard was careful and calculating with those he worked with, as he should be. Daysho heard of Romann de Beaux’s hatred toward the West Horn King’s daughter, Ravana, and set his determined plan into action by contacting the vampire. The deal was to bring him Veric’s head in exchange for Romann to usher Daysho into the blood-sucking family. As to why Romann wanted his head was no concern of his, perhaps to send the King a message. His chance to have the mystic distracted was forthcoming. He would only have one chance, one moment, but he needed to be patient and wait for the spell-slinger to drain his power enough that he could strike without his intent being detected. Veric was extremely powerful and Daysho had no desire of losing his life this day. The human assassin brought his black cowl to drape his face and to hide his smirk. The group traversed the icy terrain a few miles until reaching the breathtaking chamber where Raina and the others had recently been.

“I smell death,” Daysho whispered.

Veric turned to respond, but stopped short when the assassin was gone. The evil mage quickly spotted a blurred, near-invisible form moving deeper into the chamber. Veric nodded for the other men to move out.

At the center of the subterranean area, they found the body of a white dragon. Its red blood, now frozen amongst the rocky terrain, contrasted with the bluish ice in the cavern. The back of its head was completely blown out. Its beige tongue hung out of the jaw and pearlescent eyes were foggy and lifeless. Scorched blast marks peppered the rest of its body.

Daysho, now visible, spoke as he approached Veric, who surveyed the fallen beast, “There are two more, further on, both dead. They apparently fought each other to the death.”

“This one was killed by magic, combined with a strange weapon of some kind,” Veric determined.

“Could it have been this elven mystic, Raina?”

“She is powerful. Be mindful of her before you strike.”

Daysho intently stared at Veric, “Of course,” he answered, but it was Veric’s power he would be mindful of instead.

“The dragon entities can sense each other; the Dal-Draydian awaits us at the Chamber. Come, this way.”

A
small unit of frost dwarves ushered others along the tunnel walls out of striking distance of the risen Manasseh. Abawken, preparing for the coming battle, gripped his scimitar and moved into a protective position in front of his friends, saying, “Since his return from the dead, we can’t be certain of how much of his former power he has retained. Be mindful, Master Bridazak.”

There were still hundreds of dwarves mingled within the other races. All were trying to escape the goblin tunnels; the horde would be coming.

Bridazak stepped forward, “Manasseh, what do you want?”

“Your head on a spit!”

“His head is perfect where it is,” Spilf jumped in.

Dulgin raised an eyebrow, “Good one, Stubby.”

“You thought you destroyed the Orb, Manasseh, but you, in fact, set it free. I had nothing to do with your fall. It was by your own hands.”

“No!” Manasseh countered, “It all started with you and now it will end with you.”

“There is nothing to gain by my death. Your reign is over.”

“None of that matters, only your—.”

Suddenly, a steel-tipped spear pierced through Manasseh’s chest, interrupting his threat. Stunned, Manasseh looked down at his black blood covering the weapon and fell to his knees. The restored Morthkin stood
triumphantly behind him, gleaming in his full plate armor, white hair as bright as snow, and icicles dripping off of his beard.

Manasseh, dropping his sword, grabbed the shaft of the spear with both hands and slowly began pulling the lance from his body. An evil laugh bellowed from under his dark helmet.

King Morthkin spoke, his voice was deep, “You must hurry. This man before you is cursed, and can only die by the hands of the one from whom he seeks revenge.” Everyone turned to look at Bridazak, but Morthkin continued, “Take the Sky Diamond to the Kouzfhan. It must be set into its place in order to return its power to my people, and for us to deal with the coming horde.”

“Where is this place?” Spilf questioned, still shocked by what was taking place. Seeing Manasseh face to face again, and recalling all those days of torture he had endured inside his dungeon, unnerved him.

“Not far, but you need to leave now!” He commanded. “I will only be able to hold him back for a short while. Manasseh will follow you to the Chamber. It is there you will defeat him by sending him into the Pit of Darkness. You will know when you see it. Now go!”

Abawken led the way as King Morthkin and other frost dwarves pointed the direction. Dulgin paused beside the noble dwarf leader, holding the Sky Diamond, and said proudly, “I know what needs to be done.”

The frost king nodded.

Just then, Manasseh pulled the last part of the spear out of his body and tossed it away. The black blood that had gushed from the wound, slowly receded as the gaping hole magically sealed. He grabbed his two-handed sword and rose to his feet once again. Dulgin moved quickly out of the area, but turned to see Morthkin launching hammers of ice supernaturally from his hands. Manasseh’s roar echoed down the halls.

Spilf and Bridazak reached the massive double-door first. The iron portal, with layers of gold melded into it, formed intricate designs and images of dwarves holding shields. White gold emblazoning the trim of the pictures brought an aura of power to the depictions.

Spilf withdrew his trusty thieves tools, Lester and Ross.
“Okay boys, time to work your magic.”

The dak heard the magical picks voices cheering within his mind.

The telepathic voice of Lester spoke first,
“This is quite a find, Master.”

“Why is that?”

“Tell him, Lester. Boy, what a find.”

“I’m going to, Ross. Stop repeating what I say. You know if you would just listen more and—”

Spilf cut him off,
“We are in a bit of a hurry, what is it?”

“Oh, yeah, sorry about that. This door has twelve distinct traps for those coming and going through it.”

“You can disarm them, right?”

“Lester, did he just ask us that?”

“Ross, quiet. Yes, of course we can disarm them, but it will take us a good amount of time.”

Spilf responded,
“Then get going. Which one first?”

“Let’s start with the worst one, the Death Blast.”

“C’mon Lester, let’s put another notch on our belt.”

Spilf mentally understood their direction as the picks and his mind linked to the desired location. Lester responded,
“Ross, we don’t wear belts.”

“I know, but I heard one of our masters say it before.”

“Ross, he was skinny, that is why he said it. He literally needed to make another notch in his belt to keep his pants on.”

“But why did he say it each time we helped him?”

“He was cursed Ross, remember? The witch he partnered with put a spell on him; he didn’t know he would lose weight each time he performed any kind of thieving after he stole her necklace.”

“Oh, I had no idea. I liked that necklace, what did it call itself again?”

“She called herself Veera. She was kind of creepy.”

“That’s right, Veera. Yeah, she had some nice craftsmanship.”

“Wow Ross, I never knew you took notice of her design like that.”

“I’m only a pick, Lester. Even I recognize beauty when I see it. The facets of her jewels were so perfect.”

“Yeah, she did have nice jewels, that is for sure.”

Spilf interjected,
“Guys, can you rehash your love interests another time. We seriously need to get through this door.”

“Okay, one death trap now dissolved. Onto the Disintegration.”

“Uh-oh, Lester. Here comes Grumpy.”

Dulgin entered, holding the Sky Diamond in his cupped hands. Abawken walked backward, making sure his friends were protected in case Manasseh showed up. He recalled his weeks of practicing his mind link with Raina, but he struggled to access it with the stress of the situation,
“I wish you were here, Raina,”
he thought. The burly red-bearded dwarf walked to the door. Spilf lurched backwards when several clicks inside the iron beast resounded as mechanisms of multiple locks tumbled. The gateway opened, revealing an ice covered cavern.

“C’mon, the Chamber of Cleansing is this way,” Dulgin said, walking through the doorway.

Spilf rolled Lester and Ross back into his leather pouch, hearing them protest the dwarf’s disrespect of their profession.
“Grumpy stole our work.”

Bridazak scrunched his face and complained, “It smells weird in here,” and followed his friend.

Abawken, trailing the others into the cold cave, kept a wary eye behind them. As the door magically began to close, he saw Manasseh charging with the frost dwarf king in pursuit. It clanked shut with a loud metallic thud and locked itself once again, just before Manasseh reached the closed entrance. Bridazak heard the rage-filled, muffled scream of Manasseh on the other side of the great door. The dark magic released into the evil human was powerful, and he knew that even the Dwarven door would not hold him back.

The source of the strange aroma revealed itself when the group encountered two carcasses of white dragons.The powerful mandibles of the beasts were clamped into each others’ necks.

“What happened?” Spilf asked.

“I think they didn’t like each other,” quipped Dulgin, as he passed by.

Abawken surmised, “Dragons are territorial, but not usually against themselves. This happened recently.”

“How do you know?” said Bridazak.

“I can see traces of steam from the wounds,” he pointed.

Dulgin’s voice echoed, “I found it. Hurry up, ya blundering fools!”

The others quickly followed and saw the tunnel the dwarf had discovered. Four symbols were etched into the wall. Bridazak delicately traced them with his hand. One was of encircled flames, the next depicted the
shape of an open clam with a pearl resting inside. The third resembled a generic faceted outline, perhaps a gem, and the last was clearly the Sky Diamond. Each carving surrounded the symbol of a star in the middle, but none of it made sense.

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