Cloak & Dagger: Book II of The Dragon Mage Trilogy (48 page)

Brind grunted. “It talked too much so I gave it lots of food to shut it up. Then, after all the heads fell asleep, it never made so much as a peep.”

“Excellent,” said Graf. “Now it’s time to put this creature to work.”

“I’m not a creature!” protested Frag, raising her head.

“Of course not!” said Graf condescendingly.

“What’s going on?” said the head known as Garf.

“Apparently we have work to do,” said Frag.

“I’m hungry,” yawned Gif.

“You just ate all your supplies a few hours ago!” retorted Brind.

“Oh,” said Gif dejectedly.

“You’ll have plenty of meat to eat once you’ve done what I tell you to do,” said Graf sullenly.

“What do you want us to do?” asked Frag.

“Just follow me and keep quiet,” said Graf. “I’ll tell you what to do when the time comes.”

“What do you want me to do?” asked Brind.

“Stay here until I get back,” said Graf. “I’ll be a while, so stay out of sight.”

Brind nodded. “Good luck.”

Graf grimaced. “It has nothing to do with luck. It’s all in the planning. After tonight, the humans will be all but vanquished. With the Tower of Hope and the Tower of Sorcery defeated, the humans will have no choice but to surrender to our superior magic!”

Brind grinned. “I can’t wait.”

“It won’t be much longer,” said Graf. “Just be patient.” He turned and left with the hydra in tow.

As the lizardmage departed, two creatures with a low profile sprang out of the raft and scurried to safety in the dense brush along the shoreline. Brind had his back to the raft so he didn’t see them. Even if he did, he wouldn’t have paid much attention to them. No one paid attention to a couple of rats at the best of times.

Brind returned to his hidden spot in the nearby underbrush to wait. Soon all was quiet once again.

In the square near the selling booths lingered a number of cloaked figures. Their dark green capes looked black in the darkness. This worked to their advantage since black robed figures were common on Skull Island. There were only a few people visible at this hour. Most of these were shop vendors who were in the process of closing up and locking their shops. A majority of them headed for their quarters in specially designated apartments. The rest resided in local inns where travelers stayed. These inns sat strangely empty as travelers were few and far between. Most roads these days were not safe, since road patrols were recruited into the war taking place at the Tower of Hope. Civilians were preoccupied with survival and the search for clean water.

“He’d better get here soon,” muttered Longspike.

Cleaver looked around. “He’ll be here.”

“This was too easy,” said Sawtooth uneasily. “I don’t like it.”

“Just wait until we get inside the tower,” said Ice Blade.

“I wonder what it’s like,” wondered Ropeburn.

“This isn’t a sight- seeing tour,” reminded Sparky. “There will be mages who can disable us if we are not vigilant.”

“I agree,” said Multibolt. “We’re going to have to be alert and watch each other’s backs.”

“What’s our mission again?” asked Ropeburn.

“We have to eliminate all of the arch mages,” said Longspike. “Most of them are weak or dead, but we can’t take any chances.”

“And how do we identify them?” asked Ropeburn.

“They wear rings with a special insignia,” said Longspike. “Also, their cloaks have a silver lining. If you’re not sure, kill them anyway.”

“How many arch mages are there?” asked Ice Blade.

“There are twelve of them,” answered Longspike, “but not all of them may be present. Some may already be dead and buried. At least one has escaped the poison, so be alert.”

“I’d like to get started soon,” said Cleaver impatiently.

“Then we should begin,” said a voice behind them. Everyone turned and saw a cloaked figure approaching. It was Inferno. “Is everything secure?”

“Yes,” said Longspike. “The patrols were minimal. It didn’t take long to take them out.”

“Good,” said Inferno. “We are ready for the next phase of my - er - our plan.”

“Are you sure this will work?” asked Ropeburn nervously.

“Of course,” said Longspike. “We know that as unauthorized magic users we will be magically transported to the prisons as soon as we try to enter the tower. Then we use our ‘pass through rock’ spell to escape the prisons before they can check on us. We then group together in twos and threes and infiltrate each floor and room to find and kill all of the arch mages. Anyone who gets in our way will have to die as well.”

“But there are so many mages in the tower,” objected Ropeburn.

Longspike nodded. “That’s why I invited others to help us.” He raised his fingers to his lips and whistled.

In the darkness noises could be heard. A number of cloaked figures appeared and gathered with the seniors of the Dark Magic Society.

Inferno appeared to be agitated. “We didn’t need help. I had things under control. The mages are not likely to put up much resistance.”

Longspike waved his hand in dismissal. “It doesn’t hurt to have help. We don’t know what awaits us in the tower. As far as we know, no outsiders have ever come out of there alive.”

“As far as you know,” muttered Inferno.

Sawtooth wished she had her green ring. She had held off telling the king about it thinking she had time to get one later, but the assault on the Tower of Sorcery had been pushed ahead of schedule once again for some unknown reason. Cleaver told her it was because he suspected someone fairly high up in the Dark Magic Society of being a spy. By moving up the date of the operation, the spy wouldn’t have time to interfere. He was right. Now Sawtooth wished she had told the king about the stolen ring in her last meeting. But it was too late to do anything about it now. Her only option was to attempt to foil the plan herself.

Longspike handed out some spell scrolls with the ‘pass through rock’ spell inscribed on them. “This is to get past the prisons in the tower’s basement,” he explained. He led the contingent of dark elves past the inns and down the walkway to the mermaid fountain. Magical lights provided mild illumination to the fountain so that the mermaid would never be left in the dark. As the party passed, the mermaid’s eyes followed them. It was only a statue, but it seemed to know that something was afoot.

Longspike halted the party before the long, narrow tunnel that was the only entrance to the Tower of Sorcery. In the daytime, the tower was a beautiful obsidian structure with one massive pinnacle in its center. Three domes surrounded the pinnacle, and nine smaller domes bordered the three taller ones. But up close in the moonlight, it was forbidding, its blackness blacker than the night. The entry tunnel seemed even blacker, threatening to swallow anything that considered entering its deep, dark depths.

The leader of the dark elves took a deep breath and strode forward. His chosen army followed. The other heads of the Dark Magic Society looked at one another nervously before following suit.

Inferno took one last look behind him and hoped his instructions were carried out. Then he, too, stepped through and disappeared from sight.

There was silence for several minutes. Then a couple of rats materialized out of the darkness. Their outlines on the ground seemed to be out of proportion to their real size due to the bright moonlight.

“Do you think we can get in?” asked the first rat.

“Only magic users can get in,” said the second one. “We should be fine.”

“I hope you’re right, Lyrr.”

“There’s only one way to find out,” said the second rat. He sprang through the dark opening and vanished.

Not wanting to be left behind, Lynch followed.

Before long, a large figure lumbered into view. It was the hydra.

“I don’t know about this,” murmured Frag.

“It’ll be fun!” said Garf jovially. “Uncle Graf is finally letting us do something important. He said we were magic resistant! The mages won’t be able to hurt us! We’re going to be heroes!”

“He said there would be plenty of food,” added Gif. “Let’s hurry!”

“Alright, alright!” snapped Frag. “I’m going as fast as I can!”

The hydra lumbered as fast as it could through the entryway. Then it, too, disappeared from view.

* * * * *

The battlefield was a sea of blood and body parts. One could barely walk without stepping on bodily remains. Clerics wandered through the gory scene searching for signs of life. There were a few people they might still be able to save. When they came across a survivor, soldiers who followed with stretchers were ordered to bring them back to the tower for healing. The grisly task of cleaning up had begun.

In the courtyard, Kazin, Della, Rubin, Vera, Rebecca, Alric, Tyris, Sherman, and General Larsen were together talking. Kazin had just finished explaining his rescue by Frosty and the druids.

Alric immediately recognized Della and tried to keep a low profile. He avoided eye contact with her as she curiously regarded him with interest. When she asked about his reason for being there, he simply answered that he was an explorer who enjoyed an occasional quest.

General Larsen was shaking Sherman’s hand. “Thanks once again for your timely assistance! Without you we would have fallen.”

“Think nothing of it,” said Sherman. “I’m just glad we came in time to help.”

General looked at everyone assembled. “Thank you all. I’m grateful for everything each of you has done.” Then he turned and wearily went back to work. As he walked away, his limp was even more noticeable than in the past.

“He’s a real fighter,” said Sherman when the general was out of earshot.

“Yes,” said Kazin. “Do you remember when he tried recruiting you way back when?”

“Yeah,” said Sherman. “I’ve learned a lot since those days.”

“Incidentally,” said Kazin, “how did you get here so fast? I thought for sure it would take a few days for you to arrive all the way from the mountains, let alone from your home city.”

“We rode on the treemen,” explained Sherman. “We selected the tallest trees with the longest roots from the fringes of the Black Forest, and they were able to move faster than any horse. Don’t get me wrong; they moved slowly, but each step they took covered considerable ground in a short time. Also, their massive branches allowed them to carry up to, and in some cases more than, fifty soldiers and a spell caster. It was a bouncy ride, and we had to hold on tightly so as not to fall off. That’s why we didn’t have any cavalry. The treemen were a better substitute. We had more than enough young spell casters available from Queen Milena’s mage schools to activate them. Once we got here, we climbed down and attacked, fully refreshed and ready to fight.”

“But how did you know to assemble your army? Did Queen Milena order it?”

Sherman shook his head. “No. You did.”

“What?!”

Sherman smiled. “It’s a long story. I’ll tell you all about it - er - maybe I can’t.” He scratched his head. “This time travel stuff is confusing,” he mumbled.

Kazin gave him a weird look.

A couple of soldiers came by carrying a man on a stretcher. They paused as a gruff voice mumbled at them. They stopped and the man they were carrying tried to sit up. “Cyril,” he called in a hoarse voice.

Cyril started when he heard his name. “Huh?”

The man beckoned weakly. “Come here.”

Cyril walked up to the man and gasped when he saw who it was. “Jake?!” He quickly averted his gaze to avoid paralyzing the man.

The man’s face was disfigured almost beyond recognition. “Yes. It’s me.”

“What happened?” asked Cyril, concerned.

The man waved his hand irritably. “Never mind that.” He coughed before continuing. “I’m dying and I want you to do something for me.”

“Just name it,” said Cyril.

“I want you to take charge of the tower’s gardens,” said Jake. “You’re better with plants and herbs than anyone I know. As least if you take over, they will have a chance to come back.”

Cyril looked over at Vera but turned back before he could make eye contact. “Uh, sure,” he said uncertainly.

“Promise?”

Cyril took a deep breath. “O - O.K.”

“It will be a big job. There is plenty of damage to undo.”

“I - I won’t let you down,” stammered Cyril.

“Good,” said Jake. He motioned for the soldiers to continue. As the soldiers walked away, Jake lifted his head and hollered hoarsely, “And don’t forget to water the faelora!”

Cyril gaped after the retreating figure, who smiled and winked. When he turned back to the others, he had tears in his eye.

At that moment, Lieutenant Farnsworth strode by with his mother at his side, along with his father, and Henry the dwarf. When Elsie saw the cyclops, she pointed at him and said, “You should have seen him! He’s strong as an ox! He was fearsome to behold! No creature stood a chance against him! Not even the biggest ones!” Her praise carried on even after they were out of earshot.

The cyclops could stand no more. He began to cry. Vera immediately put her arm around the big cyclops’ shoulder and held him close. “I told you if you gave people a chance they would like you.”

“It looks like you have a talent with gardens,” said Rebecca, playfully punching the cyclops in the arm.

“You’re all heroes!” said a familiar voice.

Everyone turned to see High Cleric Malachi approaching. With him were Mara, the grey mage, and her general, Jerrin.

“I see you’re still alive, Kazin!” exclaimed Malachi. “Everyone thought you were dead!”

“It was a surprise to me too,” said Kazin. “I guess it takes more than a little poison to kill me.”

“That’s great!” said Malachi with a grin. “It’s a good thing too. Your help was badly needed this time.”

“I see you’re finally taking a break,” said Sherman.

Malachi nodded. “For the moment. But there is still much to do. I could use some help getting things back into shape around here.” He put his hand on Mara’s shoulder. “The grey mages have graciously agreed to stay a while.”

“I can get my sailors to help,” offered Rubin. “Ye’ll need supplies and materials. But many will want some sort of compensation.”

“I have money,” said Malachi. He winked. “I also happen to have a stockpile of ale.”