Army of the Dead (74 page)

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Authors: Richard S. Tuttle

Tags: #Fantasy, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Young Adult

BOOK: Army of the Dead
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Shortly before dawn, someone noticed the immobilized sentries. Shouts rippled through the encampment and soon the entire Motangan camp was awake. Torches flared to life, and the shouts increased to a frenzied pitch as the tyriks were sighted. Most of the Motangan soldiers retreated towards the temple, but some of them attacked the tyriks believing that their multiple lives made them invincible. The attacking hellsouls slashed out with their swords, but the tyriks were hard to wound. The giant spiders turned on the attackers, spinning strands of web to encase the Motangans or injecting them with fast-acting, paralyzing poison. While the battle raged, the tyriks that had spun the outer webs turned inward to complete the task abandoned by the two inner columns.

Far above the battlefield, on the roof of the temple, Vand scowled into the predawn light with anger. Bolts of lightning streaked downward from his raised hands and burst into the clumps of tyriks. Some of the giant spiders suddenly exploded, the smoke from their burning carcasses curling up into the sky. As Vand screamed obscenities and continued casting murderous lightning bolts upon the spiders, Pakar and his twelve appeared on the roof.

“Join me in destroying the spiders,” shouted Emperor Vand, “but send one of your men to summon Zarapeto and the others. I want these beasts destroyed.”

Pakar directed one of his men to find the demons and return with them. He then directed the rest of his mages to attack the spiders. With thirteen mages attacking from above, the tyriks scurried to the east and to the west. While the tyriks could move quickly for short periods of time, they eventually had to slow down. That was the reason that Rejji had been moving his troops only a half day at a time. The tyriks could move no faster over long distances. The quick scurrying carried many of the tyriks beyond the range of the mages, but many more had died before they could get clear. Scores of burning hulks littered the ground and columns of rising smoke filled the sky obscuring the view from the roof.

“Our master calls?” Zarapeto’s deep voice boomed.

Vand spun around to face the three remaining demons.

“I want every one of those spiders killed,” ordered Emperor Vand as he pointed aimlessly at the battlefield and the retreating tyriks. “Do not let a single one of them escape. When the three of you have killed them all, join us in the throne room. I want the rest of our opponents destroyed today. I will determine what part each of us gets to enjoy.”

The Emperor did not wait for a response, as none was necessary. He marched across the roof and entered the temple. Pakar and his mages quickly followed, leaving the demons alone on the roof.

Zarapeto looked down from the roof at the fleeing tyriks. He grinned maliciously and pointed to a large group heading to the southeast.

“Xero,” he bellowed, “those are yours. Yunga, you get the ones going northeast. I will take the ones going to the west.”

“You are getting more than us,” accused Xero. “Trade with me.”

“I was summoned,” spat Zarapeto, “and I received the order. Do as you are told.”

Without giving the other demons a chance to argue, Zarapeto leaped into the air and sped westward. Yunga grunted with distaste and also took to the air to complete his task. Xero growled and spat at the retreating Zarapeto, but the other demon was already too far away. The acidic spittle fell to the ground and landed on a Motangan soldier who promptly screamed as the acid ate into his flesh. Xero grinned in appreciation and leaped into the air and headed to the southeast.

Far to the southeast, Emperor Marak sat on the dragon’s back. The slit in Myka’s scale that the Torak had used to house his knife no longer existed. It had been healed with the rest of the dragon, but that no longer mattered. The Torak had created a harness that would hold him in place on the dragon’s back. As he saw the three demons split up and begin attacking the retreating tyriks, he tested the harness and ordered Myka into the air.

“Place your sword along my body,” instructed the dragon. “Do not let Xero see it before we make our move.”

Myka flew low over the plain southeast of Vandegar. She kept an eye on the demon that was heading towards them, but Xero had not noticed the approaching threat yet. The demon was intent on killing the tyriks, and it felt quite invincible. As the dragon started to pass over the fleeing tyriks, Xero noticed her. The demon’s wings faltered for a heartbeat and its eyes blinked as if not believing what they were seeing.

“The demon has seen you,” announced Emperor Marak.

Myka did not need to respond as she had already begun to soar skyward. The dragon did not fly towards the approaching demon, but rather shot almost straight up as if she were trying to get above the creature without being seen. The demon hissed, its wings flapping furiously as it strove to cut off the dragon.

“You must act swiftly,” Myka warned softly. “You will recognize the moment.”

When the collision appeared imminent, the demon’s talons stretched outward towards the dragon. Myka tilted forward so that her body was parallel to the ground and then pulled her wings in tightly to her body. For barely a second the dragon seemed to hang in the air motionless. It was during that precise second that the demon screeched overhead. Marak swiftly raised the Sword of Torak and rent the creature’s underside.

Myka dropped like a rock, the ground hurrying upward at a dizzying rate. The dragon’s wings flared out to break the decent, and Marak’s body slammed against the dragon’s scales. Before Marak could even bounce back, Myka had banked sharply to reverse direction, her eyes scanning the sky in search of Xero. Black, acidic blood flowed out of the demon’s gashed body, but it had also turned around and was diving towards the dragon.

“My turn,” Myka declared. “Hold your sword high, and let Xero see what has caused its wound. That will be the distraction I need.”

As the two huge flying beasts approached one another at a frantic pace, Emperor Marak held the Sword of Torak high above him. The rising sun glinted off the sword, and Xero howled with vengeance. The demon set its eyes on the Torak and flapped it wings even faster. Just as Xero stretched its talons to shred the Torak, Myka increased her angle of ascent and snapped her jaws shut on the demon’s neck. The two behemoths collided roughly and began to fall as they struggled. For a short period, Marak was actually upside down, praying to Kaltara that the harness would hold, but the struggle ended quickly. Myka opened her mouth and let the body of the demon fall from the sky. The dragon swiftly righted herself and headed northward to engage Yunga.

“Are you alright?” asked Marak. “Do you need healing or a rest before the next demon?”

“I have never felt better,” grinned the dragon. “Yunga has seen us already, but Zarapeto has not. Let’s engage while the odds favor us. Hide your sword again.”

Yunga had already destroyed all of the tyriks in the northeast and had turned southward to help Xero. That is when the second demon had seen Xero fall from the jaws of the dragon. Yunga screeched loudly in alarm, but Zarapeto was too far to the west to hear it. Yunga had the choice of fleeing from the dragon or fighting it alone. The demon hissed menacingly and decided to fight.

“Same plan?” asked the Torak.

“No,” answered Myka. “Yunga knows that I have seen him. He will not fall for that ruse.”

“What is the plan then?” asked Marak.

“We improvise,” replied the dragon.

“You mean we have no plan?” Marak asked accusingly.

“That too,” Myka said defensively. “I will think of something. Have you never made up plans in the middle of a battle? Do you not fight on instincts alone sometimes?”

“I do,” admitted Marak, “but I try not to. It is always better to have a plan.”

“Stop whining,” chuckled Myka. “One of us will kill Yunga.”

Marak gripped his sword as the two giants raced head on towards each other. The demon came in fast and level, and once again it appeared as if they would collide. The Torak wondered which of them would turn away from the collision first. After a few more seconds, he believed that neither one of them would give up until they crashed into each other.

“Raise your sword,” Myka shouted urgently as her body suddenly rolled over.

At the last minute the dragon rolled upside down, just above the level of the charging demon. Marak hung upside down and shoved his sword downward at the demon. The impact of the demon’s head upon the blade nearly tore the Sword of Torak from his hands, but Marak maintained control of the weapon as it sliced the demon’s body open. Myka flipped in a loop to attack the demon from behind, but there was no need. Yunga’s body toppled downward and splattered on the ground.

“Incredible,” remarked Marak. “That was too easy. The Sword of Torak is indeed deadly against the demons.”

“Easy?” retorted the dragon. “Do you know what strength it takes to make that maneuver, not to mention the superb timing required to escape a deadly collision? Easy! What do you know?”

“I know that we make a great team,” the Torak grinned.

“We do, don’t we?” chuckled the dragon as she turned westward to engage the final demon in mortal combat.

Myka’s eyes scanned the sky looking for Zarapeto, but the demon was nowhere to be found. Unexpectedly, a bolt of lightning flashed in the clear sky and streaked towards the dragon. Myka immediately took evasive action by dropping and banking. The bolt of lightning flashed perilously close by and the dragon continued to fly erratically. More flashes lit the sky, and it appeared that several bolts were sizzling nearby instead of only one.

“Head south,” ordered the Torak. “There are mages on top of the temple. They are aiming for us.”

“I did not think it was a thunderstorm,” quipped the dragon as she dropped low to the ground and continued to zigzag in a southerly direction.

Myka intentionally flew over the skeleton army that was entrapped by the tyrik webs. She cackled with delight every time one of the bolts aimed at her smashed into the skeletons.

“Enjoying yourself?” quipped Marak. “If one of those lightning bolts hits us, we won’t find it humorous.”

“No human can forecast the path of a dragon,” retorted Myka. “Let them try.”

Suddenly, thirteen bolts rained down out of the sky directly in front of the dragon. Hundreds of skeletons flew into the air, and pieces of bone bounced off the dragon.

“And if they get lucky?” Marak asked nervously.

The dragon had no reply. She was too busy flapping her wings as fast as she could as she continued to zigzag towards the south.

Chapter 47
Assault on the Temple

The sizzling bolts of lightning stopped as the dragon flew over Lake Jabul, and Myka turned to look for Zarapeto as she continued flying southward.

“There is no sign of the last demon,” she reported.

“The demon is not our only worry right now,” replied Emperor Marak. “The Khadoran and Fakaran horsemen are due to begin the attack at sunrise.”

“It is sunrise now,” retorted the dragon.

“And the horsemen will be slaughtered if Vand’s mages have nothing else to attack,” the Torak nodded. “We have to go back.”

“Fight the mages before we have exterminated the final demon?” questioned Myka.

“We must,” Marak said seriously, “but we will need some help.”

“A great deal of help,” agreed the dragon. “Where do you want me to go?”

“Pick up the Star of Sakova,” answered the Torak. “She is waiting in the forest south of the lake.”

Marak expected some quip out of the dragon about Lyra not being the great amount of help that he had just spoken about, but the dragon did not offer any humor. Marak smiled inwardly at the dragon’s new appreciation for the Star of Sakova and her abilities. Myka swept down and landed on the plain near the edge of the forest. Lyra, StarWind, HawkShadow, LifeTender, and Rejji came running out of the forest.

“The last demon returned to the temple while the mages cast their spells at you,” Lyra reported. “Are either of you hurt?”

“We are invincible,” grinned the dragon.

“We need your help, Lyra,” answered the Torak. “We must divert those mages from concentrating on the horsemen. Climb up.”

“You are going to use Lyra as a target?” objected StarWind. “Let me go in her place.”

“You do not have her skills,” interjected Rejji as he helped Lyra onto the dragon’s back. “We will keep her safe.”

“We?” frowned Marak as Rejji scampered up behind Lyra.

“We,” the Astor nodded. “It is the Three who must end this threat to the world. From now on, we must be inseparable.”

“He speaks wisely,” Myka responded as she flapped her massive wings and leaped into the air. “There may not have been time to come back for the Astor.”

“It is decided then,” frowned the Torak as he watched the ground below recede, “but remember that neither of them have harnesses. I could hold Lyra, but not both of them.”

“I understand,” the dragon replied curtly. “How do you want to begin this diversion?”

“Get us close enough to use light blades,” answered the Torak. “Maybe the mages will not be shielded.”

“Unlikely,” frowned Lyra.

“Do you have a better suggestion?” asked Marak.

“Get Lyra onto the roof of the temple,” offered Rejji. “She can raise her blue cylinder and draw attention away from us.”

“But I cannot cast with the spell of protection around me,” objected Lyra. “I will be useless.”

“Useless?” echoed Marak. “Hardly. Rejji is right. If the mages focus on attacking you, I can continue to attack from Myka. Even if some of the mages split their attention between us, the horsemen will be spared.”

“I will get you on the roof, Daughter of Kaltara,” declared the dragon. “You must trust me and jump when I tell you to. Do not delay, and do not ask questions. Just jump when I say to.”

* * *

Pakar sighed in frustration as the dragon fled out of range of his mages. He stood staring at the retreating speck in the sky as Zarapeto landed on the roof.

“Why didn’t you attack the dragon?” questioned the head mage. “Between our spells and your attack, the dragon would have died.”

Zarapeto snarled at the mage, black spittle spraying from his lips.

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