Kazin's Quest: Book I of The Dragon Mage Trilogy (19 page)

The cave was exactly as Rubin had described it, with a sulfurous black smoke emanating from its entrance. They coughed upon entry and blindly made their way for a few hundred yards before the smoke dissipated enough for them to see. They were in a large, rounded tunnel both high and wide and littered with bones from every conceivable creature, from mice to minotaurs and humans. Some rusty weapons were evident among the bones, obviously belonging to unsuccessful treasure hunters.

Sandor lit his staff and signaled them to follow and they made their way deeper into the tunnel. They rounded three or four turns and noticed a golden glow ahead of them. Rounding the last bend, they were nearly blinded by what they saw.

In a cavern before them lay a pile of gold coins, jewelry, and other fascinating objects, piled almost as high as the roof of the cavern itself. Atop the pile was an enormous fire dragon, whose tail dangled lazily down the golden slope. There was no surprise in its gold and black reptilian eyes as it watched them enter its domain.

Sandor approached slowly and was about to speak when the dragon interrupted him.

“It has been too long,” the dragon began in a powerful, rasping voice, “since anyone has challenged me for wealth. Even the minotaurs seem to have given up. Ordinarily, I would have killed you long before you could even imagine my wealth, let alone see it. But I sense you have come a long way and it would only be fair to let you behold my greatness before I devour you.” The dragon slithered slowly down its pile of gold and jewels and stopped before Sandor. The old mage looked ant-like next to the giant reptile. “Well, mage, what type of death would you prefer? I’ll bet you want it to be quick and painless, right?”

“Oh, no, Great Filbar,” stammered Sandor. “I have brought you a gift. Two, in fact. You wouldn’t kill someone who offered you gifts, would you?”

The great dragon appeared startled for a moment. Then he regained his composure. “So, the world is still in awe of my great power? Good! As for killing you, it depends on what kind of gifts you bring.” Filbar glanced at his pile of gold, then back at Sandor. “I find it hard to believe that you could offer me something when I have wealth beyond imagining, jewels to die for, and artifacts so powerful that even a mage such as yourself is not capable of wielding.”

“I have something that you do not have,” said Sandor, “something that you would surely want if you paid any heed to the Book of Prophesy.”

“Book of Prophesy? What do you mean?”

Sandor pulled out the book and opened it to a certain page. “Here, read this.”

The dragon carefully lifted the Book of Prophesy out of Sandor’s hand with a taloned foreleg.

“As you can see,” said Sandor after a moment, “the prophesy says you will be defeated by the two mages who perfect the test in the same year.”

Max and Kazin exchanged glances. How come he was telling the dragon all this? It was only going to make things harder for them. They quietly moved into a different position to prepare for a fight.

“Foolishness!” spat the dragon.

“It’s true!” insisted Sandor. “These mages are quite powerful!”

“What’s he doing?” whispered Max.

“I don’t know,” said Kazin. “But I get the impression we’re in trouble!”

The dragon glanced at the two young mages. “Don’t tell me your two companions are the ones you’re talking about. They’re only boys!”

“Don’t be fooled!” growled Sandor, glaring at Max and Kazin with a strange look. “I’m offering you the chance to defeat them before they become too powerful!”

Filbar reared back his head and hissed a hysterical laugh. “You think these boys are too powerful? Out of my way, old man! You try my patience.” With a sweep of his scaly foreleg he casually slapped Sandor across the room into a cavern wall. Sandor slid to the floor, unconscious. Then Filbar advanced on the two young mages nearby.

“The old mage says you boys are powerful,” sneered the dragon. “Let’s see what you’ve got!” He let loose with a fearsome blast of fire, blackening the rocks and floor nearby and filling the cavern with smoke. But the young mages remained unharmed.

“So, you have powerful shields,” commented Filbar. “Perhaps a few more blasts of hot air will weaken your resolve.” He blasted again several more times with the same result. The thick smoke was making it difficult to see. The dragon inhaled for one more blast of fire and expelled. This time, however, only heavy steam came out, completely hiding the mages from view. He cursed and slashed at the steam angrily.

“Let’s split up,” whispered Kazin. “We need to outflank him. Remember—to defeat a fire wielding creature you need ice magic.”

“Got it,” whispered Max. He silently made his way to the right, disappearing into the smoke and steam. Kazin moved left.

Meanwhile, Sandor regained consciousness. The smoke billowed around him and he could hear the dragon’s breathing. He rose slowly, wincing in pain, and worked his way to the left, where earlier he had spotted the object he was after.

When the smoke cleared somewhat, Kazin hollered a signal and the two younger mages began pelting the dragon with ice bolts. Filbar shrieked in pain and swung around on Kazin, whose yell had given away his location. He snapped with his huge jaws but Kazin dodged aside, prepared for just such an attack. Max was furiously showering the dragon with ice bolts from behind and didn’t notice the tail until it was too late. It crashed into his side and threw him against the wall, shattering his ribs and breaking his arm.

Filbar was about to snap at Kazin again when he spotted Sandor nearing his orb. He feinted toward Kazin and blew a weak flame at Sandor. It wasn’t as strong as he would have liked but it did the job, striking Sandor in the back and knocking him to the floor. The old mage lay still.

Kazin continued his barrage of ice bolts, unaware of Max’s predicament.

Max groaned and spit out blood. “Oh, yeah?” he rasped. He sat up. “Take this!” With that he launched a series of gigantic ice bolts into the dragon’s flank.

Filbar screamed in agony and raised his magical shield to protect himself from this onslaught. The two mages continued to shower the dragon with ice bolts, regardless of the dragon’s shield. The air in the cavern became colder and colder and before long, the dragon and his shield were covered in ice. The remaining ice bolts ricocheted haphazardly throughout the cavern.

Sandor lay on the ground and groaned. So close! He was so close! His spine was severed, his legs now useless. He would have been dead if it wasn’t for the pendant he wore—the one presented to him at the ceremony. If he had shielded himself in the first place, he might not have been harmed at all. If only he could get up and walk!

Then an idea occurred to him. It was well known that if a black mage cast a white magic spell, they would lose the potency of their magic, and become as weak in magic as a grey mage or worse. This also held true for white mages who cast black magic. Sandor reasoned that if he healed himself, he would lose most of his magical power, but that wouldn’t matter so long as he had the orb! He grinned despite his pain. He carefully recalled a spell he had seen a cleric perform and groped inside his pockets for spell components. When he was ready, he concentrated. He drowned out the sound of the ice bolts shattering around him. He clenched his fist around the spell components and chanted. The pain subsided. He felt feeling in his legs once again. Yes! It was working! He moved his legs. Yes!

He laughed in glee and jumped up. Then, an enormous ice bolt whizzed past his ear and flew into the alcove where the orb was situated, striking it with a loud hiss. The orb, which was once a rich red hue, changed to a swirling red, blue, and green color. Sandor’s heart leaped. It was still intact!

He looked back into the foggy cavern. He wasn’t going to be shot in the back this time. He raised a shield spell, noticing the effort in maintaining it, and proceeded toward the orb. Another bolt ricocheted off the dragon’s shield and flew toward Sandor. It easily penetrated his weak shield and struck him in the knee.

“Nooo!” screamed Sandor as he fell once again, only a few feet from the orb. As he lost consciousness, he wondered idly if he should have become a cleric instead.

Meanwhile, Max’s ice bolts were becoming weaker and weaker. He coughed heavily between shots, wiping blood from his mouth. Finally he stopped firing altogether. The dragon could no longer be seen through the thick layer of ice and fog.

Kazin stopped firing his bolts as well, noticing that he was the only one firing now. “Max? Are you O.K.?” There was no answer. Kazin cautiously moved to the right where he had last seen him. The steam from the dragon’s breath had dissipated, but the steam from the cold air in the cavern was just as thick and impenetrable. This made it just as difficult to see.

Kazin continued along the rim of the pile of gold. Finally he could see a dark object on the ground not far ahead of him. He moved forward cautiously and it was not until he could see the shiny emblem of the master mage on the cloak before he knew who it was. “Max?” No answer. Kazin began to run. “Max!” Still no answer. “No!” shrieked Kazin. He ran full tilt through the gold coins and jewelry, kicking them aside like worthless pebbles. “Max!” he cried, nearly pouncing on his friend in panic. “Max!”

Max’s eyes fluttered open. “Oh, it’s you,” he rasped. “I thought today was a holiday. You never let me sleep in on holidays.”

Kazin rested Max’s head on his legs. “Max! Just hang in there. You hear me? We’ll get you to a cleric! Come on, Frosty, old buddy!”

“I know you’re my best friend, Kazin, but you can be irritating at times. Let me sleep.” Max closed his eyes. “See you in the …”

“Max? Max! No!” wailed Kazin. “Nooo!” Kazin cradled his friend’s head in his hands.

He remained like this for some time before becoming aware of a hissing sound. He looked up to where the dragon was sealed in ice and it took him a moment to realize it was still alive. Apparently Filbar had dropped his shield and was melting the ice from the inside.

Kazin lowered Max to the floor and rose. Slowly he worked his way around the trapped dragon, trying to locate the spot where Filbar would emerge. He came across Sandor’s twisted body and checked his pulse. He was still alive. Kazin looked down at the old mage in disgust. Sandor was a traitor; that much he knew now. He would have a lot of explaining to do back at the tower.

There was another hiss and Kazin could see some steam emerge from the side of the dragon’s temporary prison. He climbed the golden mound to this location and waited. There were a few more blasts of steam and the ice began to melt. Within moments a large hole appeared. The dragon, upon seeing Kazin, immediately blew a powerful blast of flame in his direction. Kazin’s shield protected him effectively. The dragon tried again but this time only steam came out of his mouth.

Without changing expression, Kazin calmly lowered his shield.

The dragon looked at the mage and blinked. Suddenly Filbar’s eyes opened wide. “No! It can’t be! You!” He quickly raised his shield. “You’ll never kill me! My shield is too strong!”

Kazin didn’t know what Filbar was talking about. He didn’t care. Calmly, he raised his staff and pointed it at the dragon. If he had to use every ounce of power in the staff, then so be it. He chanted a spell and added, “This is for Max.” A dark blue bolt shot from the staff, hitting the dragon’s shield squarely. It increased in brightness until it was white hot.

The ice to the dragon’s side was still too tight for him to move. He couldn’t physically attack the mage. Filbar vainly attempted to blow his hot breath at the ice but his shield prevented him from succeeding. The dragon laughed shrilly. “A lightning bolt is related to fire. You can’t defeat me with a fire spell!”

Kazin continued, perspiration beading his forehead. The staff’s magic was empty now. What magic there was came entirely from him.

“You’ll burn yourself out before you penetrate my shield,” cried Filbar. “Surrender now and I’ll let you live!” Despite his words, the dragon appeared uncomfortable.

Filbar’s shield shimmered with heat. The ice nearby continued to melt, running over Kazin’s ankles on its way down the golden slopes. Kazin sank to his knees. The point in the shield where Kazin’s bolt struck began to undulate. Finally it broke through.

“Nooo!” shrieked Filbar. The bolt sizzled through the dragon’s belly and bounced off the back of the shield, repeatedly penetrating the dragon’s tough hide as it bounced around on the inside of the shield.

Filbar dropped his shield and released the offending lightning bolt but it was too late. Blood gushed from at least a half dozen holes in his body. He threw the Book of Prophesy, which he clutched tightly until now, high into the air. Then he raised his head and wailed, giving one last blast of fiery breath before collapsing on top of his mound of wealth. The charred remains of the Book of Prophesy landed beside him, barely distinguishable.

Kazin’s head spun. He staggered for a moment before collapsing himself and rolling down the dragon’s hoard to land in the puddles below.

Chapter 17

K
azin came to with a splitting headache. He was also chilled to the bone. It took him a moment to recall where he was. He glanced around. To his right was his dead companion. Above him lay the dragon, also dead. To his left he saw Sandor. The old mage was mumbling to himself.

Kazin wearily rose from the wet floor and approached Sandor. Sandor was still mumbling but appeared to be unconscious. Kazin bent over and tried to wake him.

Sandor opened his eyes. “Kazin? Is—is the dragon dead?”

“Yes,” answered Kazin.

“Good. Max?”

“Dead,” said Kazin bitterly. “No thanks to you.”

Sandor coughed. “I need you to get something for me.”

“What do you want?” asked Kazin. He wasn’t sure if Sandor deserved anything anyway.

“Bring me the orb,” said Sandor.

“Why?”

“I—it—maybe it can bring Max back to life.”

“I don’t believe you,” said Kazin.

“Please!” begged Sandor. “It’s important. The prophesy says so.”

Kazin hesitated. He looked at the orb in the alcove. It shimmered with a dark blue, green, and red swirling mixture. He rose to get a better view. Slowly, unthinkingly, he reached for it.