Dragon Apocalypse (The Berserker and the Pedant Book 2) (24 page)

“I perceive that you are not attacking,” Arthur said, stroking his chin.

“I perceive the same thing,” Pellonia retorted.

They stared at each other some more.

The plant matured into an adult, growing considerably over a minute’s time.
 
Its trunk solidified and grew to be a foot across, considerably larger than Maximina remembered the ones on the ship.
 
Dozens of branches burgeoned out of the trunk, hundreds of buds developed, blossoming into beautiful vibrant blood-red flowers.

Arthur said, “You’re stalling, aren’t you?
 
Why?”

“You’re the one that’s stalling,” Pellonia accused.

“True, but I’m stalling so that Melody can open the portal. Why would you be stalling?
 
That would only help us.”

Pellonia said nothing.

Arthur smiled.
 
“Your companions aren’t dead, are they?
 
Only delayed, and you’re expecting them soon.
 
Well, we can’t have that.
 
Rufus, kill them.”

“Sire,” Rufus said.
 
“It would be simpler if you would loan, on a provisional basis, of course, the other orbs to me so that I may attach them to Hinenuitepo.”

“To whom?” Arthur asked.
 
Rufus gestured to the beholder.

“Very well,” Arthur said, plucking the orbs from the air and handing them to Rufus, keeping the orb of light for himself.
 
“Just make sure they’re dead this time.
 
Really dead.
 
Dead dead.”

Rufus smiled, “Of course, sire.”

“I don’t want them to come back.
 
I hope I’m being clear.”

“Yes, sire.”

Green fruits emerged from the flowers, and petals fluttered through the air, saturating the cavern in a red blanket, covering everything in a crimson snow.
 
The fruits grew to the size of a dwarven helmet.
 
One of the fruits split open, making a wet splutting sound.
 
Yellowish-orange goo sprayed to the floor and something small but solid fell to the ground.
 
A tiny dragon, no bigger than a hummingbird, fell out.
 
“Rrrrrooooowwwwwwh,” the dragon roared in a cute little voice.

Maximina walked over and picked it up.
 
“Apocalypse!
 
Thank goodness, you’re all right!”
 
She pet his tiny head and fed him one of the scales that had fallen off of his body.
 
Apocalypse took the scale in his mouth and forced it down his throat.
 
It made a small indention as it slid from his mouth into his stomach.
 
He shimmered as tiny scales no bigger than the head of a pin grew out of his skin.

Splut.

Maximina looked over at the sound.
 
Another tiny Apocalypse looked back up at her, covered in the same yellowish-orange goo.
 
Maximina looked up at the tree and saw another fruit had burst.
 
A limb high up rustled, and another fruit erupted.
 

Splut.

Maximina surveyed the tree in horror as hundreds of fruit shook.

Splut splut.
 
Splut.

The little dragons lunged toward the pile of elven steel scales, swallowing what they could.
 
“Rooowh.
 
Roooar.
 
Rrrrrar.” A chattering cacophony of infant dragons filled the room.

“Hoo boy!” Maximina said, looking at the magic shovel.
 
“This may have been overkill.”

The tiny dragons converged on the pile of scales, devouring it like a pack of starved wolves on a fresh kill.
 
They grew to the size of a hand by the time the pile was finished, then turned to Maximina, yelping for more.

Rufus took the orbs and walked over to the beholder.
 
Gurken raised the axe above his head. “Dwarfen runes, don’t fail me now. I need you more than ever,” he muttered under his breath. He risked a peak at Othala, the dwarfen rune of independence through the release of ideas and things that keep one ‘stuck.’
 
Nothing.

“Raaaaaaaargghhhh!”
 
Gurken charged Arthur.

“Clem,” Pellonia said.
 
“Attack!”

Pellonia followed Gurken towards Arthur.

Arthur looked disdainfully at Gurken and said, “Lux.” At the intonation of that word, bright flashes of light strobed off of the orb, blinding Gurken.
 
Gurken swung his axe around at random, but unable to see, struck nothing.
 
“Still trying to use the dwarfen runes, are you?
 
I’d have thought you’d have figured it out by now.”
 
Arthur chuckled.
 
“You always were daft.”

“Melody,” Arthur sing-songed.
 
“Are you about finished?”

“You won’t be able to do it,” Pellonia said, continuing to advance while looking entirely unthreatening.
 
“We’ll stop you.
 
Good always triumphs!”

“Of course, you’re correct,” Arthur said.
 
“Good always triumphs.
 
Good, however, is defined by the winners.
 
In this case, I think it fair to say that the Phage are good, and you are evil.”

A burst of purple energy exploded from the Orb of Skzd, a large black disc appearing in front of it.
 
Violet streams of light wafted from the edges of the portal as a light mist drifted out.

“I did it,” Melody said, standing up.
 
“I actually did it!”

“Excellent timing,” Arthur said.

A gargantuan tentacle plunged into this world from the world beyond the portal. Flopping around blindly, it wrapped around Melody and yanked her through.
 
Melody’s high-pitched and frantic scream faded as she disappeared into the portal.

“Melody!” Pellonia shouted, hand extending out toward the portal in a vain attempt to hold onto her.

Two more tentacles wedged their way into the world through the portal, stretching and slipping around, fighting with each other for every inch.

Arthur stepped back a few feet.
 
“I suppose we should have made the portal a touch bigger,” he said.

Everyone scrambled out of the path of the tentacles as the tentacles searched for more prey.
 
One of them struck the Sphere of Annihilation, and the tentacle pulled taut as it was jerked into the sphere. The giant Phage’s brain compressed, squeezing through the opening as its tentacles clutched anything in its reach. It latched onto the other tentacle. Both creatures were ripped through the portal and absorbed into the Sphere.
 

“You were saying something about the Phage being the good guys because you’re going to win?” Pellonia asked.

“Just give it a minute,” Arthur snapped.
 
Smaller tentacles appeared around the edges of the portal, as smaller Phage climbed through.
 
The creatures fell to the ground.
 
Splut.
 
Splut, splut.

Arthur turned to Pellonia and Gurken, a grin nearly splitting his face in two.
 
“And now,” said Arthur, “it really is time for you to die.
 
Rufus, if you please.”

“I’m afraid not, sire.
 
I simply cannot allow it.”
 
Rufus set the last of the three orbs into the tentacle stalks on top of the beholder.
 
They twitched and dilated. The creature peered at Arthur through the orbs.

Arthur looked at Rufus in shock.
 
“No?
 
What do you mean, no?
 
Never mind, I’m busy right now and will deal with you later.”
 
Arthur turned to the mysterious man in the silken robes.
 
“Kill them,” he said.

The mysterious man in the silken robes reached up and slowly pulled open his hood.
 
A heavy leather cord stitched together his face.
 
On the top right, Arthur recognized a hazel eye and the pointed nose of the former head of the wizarding council, a woman he’d killed.
 
Her features were joined on the left side and bottom by other former wizards who had held the seats of power until Arthur killed them as well.

Arthur gulped.
 
“What is the meaning of this treachery?” he demanded.

Rufus closed his eyes and his face melted and stretched.

Arthur sneered.
 
“Intentoque Lux Trabem!”
 
A burning white line shot through Rufus’s head.
 
His face continued to stretch, the beam passing through without effect.
 
Clem strode over to Arthur, ripped the orb from his grasp, and struck Arthur on the head with a meaty fist.
 
Arthur’s head snapped back and he fell to the ground.
 
The lights blinding Gurken vanished and he blinked, trying to regain his sight.

Rufus’s head solidified into that of a large cat.
 
It was Risabh, the man from the house with the picket fence and Clem’s creator.
 
Pellonia’s eyes shot open; her mouth gaped.
 
She looked from Clem, to the beholder, to the not-so-mysterious man in the silken robes.
 
They were all stitched together from corpses.

“I assume you’re not here to help us,” Pellonia said.

“That depends on your point of view.
 
You’re free to go.”

“And the portal?” she asked.

“That,” said Risabh, “must remain open for the time being.”
 
The Phage, which had been so tentative before, now climbed into the world at a furious pace.
 
Splut-splut-splutsplut-splut.

“I don’t understand,” Pellonia said.

Risabh rolled his eyes.
 
“Fine, I’m happy to explain it to you.
 
I would have thought you’d manage to piece it — so to speak — together by now.
 
The more deaths, the more souls for me to collect, the stronger and the more varied I can build my golems.
 
I’m perfectly happy having you fight it out with the Phage, but in order for that to happen, the Phage have to get here first.
 
And here they come.”