A Land Of Fire (Book 12) (3 page)

“Look out,” she said. “Tell me what you
see.”

Thor looked out, and at first he saw
nothing but ocean and white haze. Soon, though, the haze turned brighter, the
ocean began to disappear, and images began to flash before him.

The first thing Thor saw was his son,
Guwayne, out at sea, floating on a small boat.

Thor’s heart raced in panic.

“Guwayne,” he said. “Is it true?”

“Even now he is lost at sea,” she said. “He
needs you. Finding him will be one of the great quests of your life.”

As Thor watched Guwayne floating away,
he felt an urgency to leave this place at once, to race to the ocean.

“I must go to him—now!”

His mother laid a calming hand on his
wrist.

“See what else you have to see,” she
said.

Thor looked out and saw Gwendolyn and
her people; they sat huddled on a rocky island and braced themselves as a wall
of dragons descended from the sky, blanketing them. He saw a wall of flame, bodies
on fire, people screaming in agony.

Thor’s heart pounded with urgency.

“Gwendolyn,” Thor cried. “I must go to
her.”

His mother nodded.

“She needs you, Thorgrin. They all need
you—and they also need a new home.”

As Thor continued to watch, he saw the
landscape transform, and he saw the entire Ring devastated, a blackened
landscape, Romulus’s million men covering every inch of it.

“The Ring,” he said, horrified. “It is
no more.”

Thor felt a burning desire to race from
here and rescue them all right now.

His mother reached out and closed the
window panes, and he turned and faced her.

“Those are just some of the quests that
lay before you,” she said. “Your child needs you, Gwendolyn needs you, your
people need you—and beyond that, you will need to prepare for the day when you
shall become King.”

Thor’s eyes opened wide.

“I? King?”

His mother nodded.

“It is your destiny, Thorgrin. You are
the last hope. It is you who must become King of the Druids.”

“King of the Druids?” he asked, trying
to comprehend. “But…I don’t understand. I thought I was in the Land of the Druids.”

“The Druids do not live here anymore,”
his mother explained. “We are a nation in exile. They live now in a distant
kingdom, in the far reaches of the Empire, and they are in great danger. You
are destined to become their King. They need you, and you need them.
Collectively, your power will be needed to battle the greatest power ever known
to us. A threat far greater than the dragons.”

Thor stared back, wondering.

“I’m so confused, Mother,” he admitted.

“That is because your training is
incomplete. You have advanced greatly, but you haven’t even begun to reach the levels
you will need to become a great warrior. You will meet powerful new teachers who
will guide you, who will bring you to levels higher than you can imagine. You
haven’t even begun to see the warrior you will become.

“And you will need it, all of their
training,” she continued. “You will face monstrous empires, kingdoms greater
than anything you’ve ever seen. You will encounter savage tyrants that make
Andronicus look like nothing.”

His mother examined him, her eyes full
of knowing and compassion.

“Life is always bigger than you imagine,
Thorgrin,” she continued. “Always bigger. The Ring, in your eyes, is a great
kingdom, the center of the world. But it is a small kingdom compared to the
rest of the world; it is but a speck in the Empire. There are worlds, Thorgrin,
beyond what you can imagine, bigger than anything you’ve seen. You have not
even begun to live.” She paused. “You will need this.”

Thor looked down as he felt something on
his wrist, and he watched as his mother clasped a bracelet on it, several
inches wide, covering half of his forearm. It was shining gold, with a single
black diamond in its center. It was the most beautiful, and the most powerful,
thing he’d ever seen, and as it sat on his wrist, he felt its power throbbing, infusing
him.

“As long as you wear this,” she said, “no
man born of woman can harm you.”

Thor looked back at her, and in his mind
flashed the images he’d seen beyond those crystal windows, and he felt anew the
urgency to Guwayne, to save Gwendolyn, to save his people.

But a part of him did not want to leave here,
this place of his dreams to which he could never return, did not want to leave
his mother.

He examined his bracelet, feeling the
power of it overwhelming him. He felt as if it carried a piece of his mother.

“Is that why we were meant to meet?” Thor
asked. “So that I could receive this?”

She nodded.

“And more importantly,” she said, “to
receive my love. As a warrior, you must learn to hate. But equally important,
you must learn to love. Love is the stronger of the two forces. Hatred can kill
a man, but love can raise him up, and it takes more power to heal than it does
to kill. You must know hate, but you must also know love—and you must know when
to choose each. You must learn not only to love, but more importantly, to allow
yourself to receive love. Just as we need meals, we need love. You must know
how much I love you. How much I accept you. How proud of you I am. You must
know that I am always with you. And you must know that we will meet again. In
the meantime, allow my love to carry you through. And more importantly, allow yourself
to love and accept yourself.”

Thor’s mother stepped forward and hugged
him, and he hugged her back. It felt so good to hold her, to know he had a
mother, a real mother, who existed in the world. As he held her, he felt
himself filling up with love, and it made him feel sustained, born anew, ready
to face anything.

Thor leaned back and looked into her
eyes. They were his eyes, gray eyes, gleaming.

She lay both palms on his head, leaned
forward, and kissed his forehead. Thor closed his eyes, and he never wanted the
moment to end.

Thor suddenly felt a cool breeze on his
arms, heard the sound of crashing waves, felt moist ocean air. He opened his
eyes and looked about in surprise.

To his shock, his mother was gone. Her
castle was gone. The cliff was gone. He looked all around, and he saw that he
stood on a beach, the scarlet beach that lay at the entrance to the Land of the
Druids. He had somehow exited the Land of the Druids. And he was all alone.

His mother had vanished.

Thor looked down at his wrist, at his
new golden bracelet with the black diamond in its center, and he felt transformed.
He felt his mother with him, felt her love, felt able to conquer the world. He
felt stronger than he ever had. He felt ready to head into battle against any
foe, to save his wife, his child.

Hearing a purring sound, Thor looked
over and was elated to see Mycoples sitting not far away, slowly lifting her
great wings. She purred and walked toward him, and Thor felt that Mycoples was
ready, too.

As she approached, Thor looked down and
was shocked to see something sitting on the beach, which had been hidden
beneath her. It was white, large, and round. Thor looked closely and saw that
it was an egg.

A dragon’s egg.

Mycoples looked to Thor, and Thor looked
at her, shocked. Mycoples looked back at the egg sadly, as if not wanting to
leave it but knowing that she had to. Thor stared at the egg in wonder, and he wondered
what sort of dragon would emerge from Mycoples and Ralibar. He felt it would be
the greatest dragon known to man.

Thor mounted Mycoples, and the two of
them turned and took one long last look at the Land of the Druids, this
mysterious place that had welcomed Thor in, and thrown him out. It was a place
Thor was in awe of, a place he would never quite understand.

Thor turned and looked at the great
ocean before them.

“It is time for war, my friend,” Thor
commanded, his voice booming, confident, the voice of a man, of a warrior, of a
King-to-be.

Mycoples screeched, raised her great
wings, and lifted the two of them up into the sky, over the ocean, away from
this world, heading back for Guwayne, for Gwendolyn, for Romulus, his dragons,
and the battle of Thor’s life.

Romulus stood at the bow of his ship,
first in the fleet, thousands of Empire ships behind him, and he looked out at the
horizon with great satisfaction. High overhead flew his host of dragons, their
screeches filling the air, battling Ralibar. Romulus clutched the railing as he
watched, digging his long fingernails into it, gripping the wood as he watched his
beasts attack Ralibar and drive him down into the ocean, again and again, pinning
him beneath the waters.

Romulus cried out in joy and squeezed
the rail so hard that it shattered as he watched his dragons shoot up from the
ocean, victorious, with no sign of Ralibar. Romulus raised his hands high above
his head and leaned forward, feeling a power burning in his palms.

“Go, my dragons,” he whispered, eyes
aglow. “Go.”

No sooner had he uttered the words than
his dragons turned and set their sights on the Upper Isles; they raced forward,
screeching, raising their wings high. Romulus could feel himself controlling
them, could feel himself invincible, able to control anything in the universe.
After all, it was still his moon. His time of power would be up soon, but for
now, nothing in the world could stop him.

Romulus’s eyes lit up as he watched the
dragons aim for the Upper Isles, saw in the distance men and women and children
running and screaming from their path. He watched with delight as the flames began
to roll down, as people were burned alive, and as the entire island went up in
one huge ball of flame and destruction. He savored watching it be destroyed, just
the same way he had watched the Ring destroyed.

Gwendolyn had managed to run from him—but
this time, there was nowhere left to go. Finally, the last of the MacGils would
be crushed under his hand forever. Finally, there would be no corner left of
the universe that was not subjugated to him.

Romulus turned and looked over his
shoulder at his thousands of ships, his immense fleet filling the horizon, and he
breathed deep and leaned back, raising his face to the heavens, raising his
palms up to his sides, and he shrieked a shriek of victory.

Gwendolyn stood in the cavernous stone
cellar underground, huddled with dozens of her people, and listened to the
earth quake and burn above her. Her body flinched with every noise. The earth
shook hard enough at times to make them stumble and fall, as outside, huge
chunks of rubble smashed to the ground, the playthings of the dragons. The
sound of it rumbling and reverberating echoed endlessly in Gwen’s ears,
sounding as if the whole world were being destroyed.

The heat became more and more intense
below ground as the dragons breathed down on the steel doors above, again and
again, as if knowing they were hiding under here. The flames luckily were
stopped by the steel, yet black smoke seeped through, making it ever harder to
breathe, and sending them all into coughing fits.

There came the awful sound of stone
smashing against steel, and Gwen watched as the steel doors above her bent and
shook, and nearly caved in. Clearly, the dragons knew they were down here, and
were trying their best to get in.

“How long will the gates hold?” Gwen
asked Matus, standing close by.

“I do not know,” Matus replied. “My
father built this underground cellar to withstand attack from enemies—not from
dragons. I do not think it can last very long.”

Gwendolyn felt death closing in on her
as the room became hotter and hotter, feeling as if she were standing on a
scorched earth. It became harder to see from the smoke, and the floor trembled
as rubble smashed again and again above them, small pieces of rock and dust
crumbling down onto her head.

Gwen looked around at the terrified
faces of all those in the room, and she could not help but wonder if, by
retreating down here, they had all set themselves up for a slow and painful
death. She was starting to wonder if perhaps the people who had died up above,
right away, were the lucky ones.

Suddenly there came a reprieve, as the
dragons flew off elsewhere. Gwen was surprised, and wondered what they were up
to, when moments later, she heard a tremendous crash of rock and the earth shook
so strongly that everyone in the room fell. The crash had been distant, and was
followed by two trembles, like a landslide of rock.

“Tirus’s fort,” Kendrick said, coming up
beside her. “They must have destroyed it.”

Gwen looked up at the ceiling and
realized he was probably right. What else could elicit such an avalanche of rock?
Clearly, the dragons were in a rage, intent on destroying every last thing on
this isle. She knew it would only be a matter of time until they burst through
to this chamber, too.

In the sudden lull, Gwen was shocked to hear
the shrill sound of a baby’s cry cutting through the air. The sound pierced her
like a knife in her chest. She could not help but immediately think of Guwayne,
and as the cry, somewhere above ground, grew louder, a part of her, still
distraught, convinced herself that it was indeed Guwayne up there, crying out for
her. She knew rationally that it was impossible; her son was out on the ocean,
far from here. And yet, her heart begged for it to be so.

“My baby!” Gwen screamed. “He’s up
there. I must save him!”

Gwen ran for the steps, when suddenly
she felt a strong hand on hers.

She turned to see her brother Reece
holding her back.

“My lady,” he said. “Guwayne is far from
here. That is the cry of another baby.”

Gwen did not wish it to be true.

“It is still a baby,” she said. “It is
all alone up there. I cannot let it die.”

“If you go up there,” Kendrick said, stepping
forward, coughing in the soot, “we will have to close the doors after you, and
you will be all alone up there. You will die up there.”

Gwen was not thinking clearly. In her
mind, there was a baby alive up there, all alone, and she knew, above all, that
she had to save it—no matter what the price.

Gwen shook her hand free from Reece’s
grip and sprinted for the stairs. She took them three at a time, and before
anyone could reach her, she pulled back the metal pole barring the doors, and leaned
into them with her shoulder, pushing them up with all her might as she raised
her palms.

Gwen screamed out in pain as she did, the
metal so hot it burned her palms, and quickly she retracted them; undeterred,
she then covered her palms with her sleeves and pushed the doors up all the
way.

Gwendolyn coughed madly as she burst out
into daylight, clouds of black smoke pouring out of the underground with her.
As she stumbled to the surface, she squinted against the light, then looked
out, raising a hand to her eyes, and was shocked to see one huge wave of destruction.
All that had been standing just moments before was now razed, reduced to piles
of smoking and charred rubble.

The baby’s cries came again, louder up
here, and Gwen looked around, waiting for the black clouds of smoke to part; as
she did, she saw, on the far side of the court, a baby on the ground, wrapped
in a blanket. Nearby, she saw its parents lying, burnt alive, now dead. Somehow,
the baby had survived. Perhaps, Gwen thought with a pang of misery, the mother
had died sheltering it from the flames.

Suddenly, Kendrick, Reece, Godfrey, and
Steffen appeared beside her.

“My lady, you must come back now!” Steffen
implored. “You shall die up here!”

“The baby,” Gwen said. “I must save it.”

“You cannot,” Godfrey insisted. “You will
never make it back alive!”

Gwen no longer cared. Her mind was
overcome with a laser-like focus, and all she saw, all she could think of, was the
child. She blocked out the rest of the world and knew that, as much as she
needed to breathe, she needed to save it.

The others tried to grab her, but Gwen was
undeterred; she shook off their grip and dashed for the baby.

Gwen sprinted with all she had, heart
slamming in her chest as she ran through the rubble, through clouds of
billowing black smoke, flames all around her. The black smoke acted as a
shield, though, and luckily for her, the dragons could not see her yet. She ran
across the courtyard, through the clouds, seeing only the baby, hearing only its
cries.

She ran and ran, her lungs bursting, until
she finally reached it. She reached down and scooped up the baby and
immediately examined its face, some part of her expecting to see Guwayne.

She was crestfallen to see it was not
him; it was a girl. She had large, beautiful blue eyes filled with tears as she
shrieked and trembled, her hands in fists. Still, Gwen felt elated to hold
another baby, feeling as if somehow she were making amends for sending Guwayne
away. And she could already see, after a brief glance at the baby’s sparkling
eyes, that it was beautiful.

The clouds of smoke lifted and Gwendolyn
suddenly found herself exposed at the far end of the courtyard, holding the
wailing baby. She looked up and saw, hardly a hundred yards away, a dozen
fierce dragons, with huge glowing eyes, all turning and looking at her. They fixed
their eyes on her with delight and fury, and she could see that they were already
preparing to kill her.

The dragons launched into the air, flapping
their great wings, so enormous from this close, heading her way. Gwen braced herself,
standing there, clutching the baby, knowing she would never make it back in
time.

Suddenly, there came the sound of drawn
swords, and Gwen turned to see her brothers Reece, Kendrick, and Godfrey, along
with Steffen, Brandt, Atme, and all the Legion members, standing beside her,
all drawing swords and shields, all rushing to protect her. They formed a circle
around her, holding their shields up to the sky, and they all prepared to die
with her. Gwen was so deeply moved and inspired by their courage.

The dragons bore down on them, opening
their massive jaws, and they braced themselves for the inevitable flame that would
kill them all. Gwen closed her eyes and she saw her father, saw everyone who
was ever important in her life, and she prepared to meet them.

Suddenly, there came a horrific shriek,
and Gwen flinched, assuming it was the first attack.

But then she realized it was a different
screech, one she recognized: the screech of an old friend.

Gwen looked up to the skies behind her,
and she was overcome as she spotted a lone dragon racing through the skies,
hurrying to do battle with the ones approaching her. She was even more elated
to see, on its back, the man she loved more than anyone in the world:

Thorgrin.

He had returned.