Kazin's Quest: Book I of The Dragon Mage Trilogy (87 page)

“I can run or fly at full speed for days,” said the unicorn. “I’m sure we’ll catch up to you before you reach the mountain.”

“What do you think, Milena?” asked Kazin.

Milena grinned. “O.K. I’ll be there.”

Before the group left, Krendal drew Zylor aside and handed him a small pouch. He and the minotaur spoke earnestly for a while, and when Krendal finally departed, Zylor had a strange grin on his face.

Sam Takar showed himself briefly to say goodbye to his son. Then he chatted lightly with Sir Galado. Apparently they had caught up on one another’s activities the night before and had come to respect each other’s situation and the choices they were forced to make in the past and present. When asked, Sam chose to remain behind to help the townsfolk rebuild. It was his home now, and he was happy here. He did, however, promise to visit if the opportunity presented itself.

The contingent was finally underway and departed the town of Marral late that morning. The trip to the Spike Ridge Mountains took three days. All was uneventful except for the fact that there was a small commotion at Zylor’s tent every time they were camped. Minotaurs, dwarves, and even humans consistently left the minotaur’s tent with long faces and angry grumbles. When asked, they complained that they had lost a healthy sum to the gambling minotaur emperor.

Kazin thought that was strange but said nothing. Perhaps the minotaur’s luck had changed.

“It isn’t the dice,” grumbled Harran one evening. “I switched them and it didn’t make any difference. He’s got something up his sleeve—I’m sure of it. It’s—unnatural.”

By the middle of the fourth day, they reached the Spike Ridge Mountains. The impassable wall of smooth rock stretched as high up as anyone could see, and as far across as it was high. Sir Galado directed them to where they had originally entered Kazin’s realm. Bodies of minotaurs and dwarves littered the area. They had died trying to prevent the bone dragon from returning home. A quick survey of the area turned up no bone dragon, much to the dismay of everyone assembled.

“They stood no chance,” said Sir Galado sadly.

Kazin used his staff to confirm the existence of the portal. It was there, judging by the shimmering orange outline in the rock face. It was the biggest portal he had encountered thus far, stretching several hundred feet in all directions.

“Can you open it?” asked Valdez.

“I think so,” said Kazin.

“I wish I knew how you do it,” said Valdez. “It’s not going to help either side to keep in contact if no one but you can open the portal.”

Kazin was surprised by the observation and wondered how to overcome this problem.

“I wonder how the goblin wolf riders and orcs that we released were able to go back home?” said Harran.

“They took an injured lizardmage with them,” said Sherman, “one that survived the war. For some reason, the lizardmages have no problem activating the portals.”

“That’s right,” put in Zylor. “It took us almost no time at all to get here with a lizardmage prisoner to activate the portal. But that option is no longer available. Now we have a long trek back through the mountains.”

“I wish I could tell you how it’s done,” said Kazin, “but I can’t. It’s a matter of using your will. I can’t describe it any other way.”

“We’ll just have to learn,” said Valdez.

“Look!” said Harran, pointing to the sky.

The others turned to look as the flying object drew near.

“It’s Frosty!” exclaimed Della delightedly. “Milena’s with him!”

“Just in time!” said Sherman. He waited for Frosty to land and then helped Milena to the ground.

“Thank you, Sherman,” said the druid. She and the warrior turned to the assembled forces and gasps of astonishment filtered through the ranks of Sir Galado’s men. Hastily, everyone in the soldier’s unit, including Sir Galado himself, dismounted and went down on one knee, bowing their heads.

“What gives?” asked Sherman curiously.

Sir Galado looked up with tears in his eyes. “It is a miracle! My mission is almost complete! I have found both of the queen’s children!”

“What do you mean?” asked the big warrior in bewilderment.

Sir Galado gave him a quizzical look. “Guardian, do you not know your own sister?”

Sherman gaped. “My—what?!” His face turned ashen.

“Your sister!” repeated Sir Galado. “The lady in the blue dress—she is the mirror image of her mother! She is our princess!”

Sherman’s jaw dropped. He looked at Milena and she returned the astonished stare.

Della clapped her hands together. “Oh, this is something!”

Harran grunted, but his eyes gleamed as he appreciated the humour of the situation.

Zylor grinned openly. He would miss the surprises he and the companions constantly encountered.

Kazin looked back and forth between the warrior and druid. He had noticed the slight similarities in their eyes and cheekbones, but hadn’t considered the possibility that they were related. Now, the story of Milena being found along the shore of North Lake as an infant had merit. How she got there was still unknown, but it coincided with Sherman’s history to some extent. Kazin suspected the druids in the Tower of the Moon had something to do with it.

“Well,” said Milena, finally able to express herself after her shock, “I see now why Amelia wanted me to stay with Kazin and Sherman. She somehow knew I would find my destiny. She knew I had to find it on my own, because telling me outright would tip the balance and possibly spoil everything.” To Sir Galado and his men she said, “Rise! I’m not familiar with the procedures of royalty, so you’ll have to bear with me. As for actually being a princess, why don’t we go to your palace and see for ourselves if this is true?”

“As you wish, my lady,” said Sir Galado, rising. He bowed and turned to his men, telling them to prepare for entry into the portal.

“I guess this is goodbye,” said Harran, coming up to Kazin to shake his hand. He held his hand out to the elf.

“Oh, you silly dwarf!” exclaimed Della. She ignored his hand and kissed him on the cheek instead.

Harran blushed and shook hands with Sherman and Milena. The druid also gave him a quick kiss but didn’t embellish the action as Della had. The dwarf patted Frosty gently on the neck.

“You watch that they don’t get themselves killed, you hear?” said the dwarf gruffly.

“You can count on it,” said the unicorn confidently.

The dwarf turned to face them all. “Feel free to visit the dwarven realm anytime. Just ask for me.”

“We will,” said Kazin.

“The same goes for me,” said Zylor. He pulled his horse forward and offered the reins to Sherman. “Here, warrior.” It was the same big warhorse that Harran had loaned him long ago. The horse was used by Fildamir’s forces during the battle. Fildamir had returned it with the companions’ other mounts from the Tower of Strength. Zylor explained that he had spotted it in the stables in Marral after the war and simply helped himself to it, amidst the outrage of the stable master, who had given in when the minotaur threatened him to a duel.

“I was told you wanted this horse,” added Zylor. “I won’t need it anymore.”

“Thanks,” said Sherman uncertainly. For a minute he thought the minotaur was going to ask him to a duel himself.

“No thanks required,” said the minotaur. “You have been an excellent trainer. I owe you.”

“Wait a minute!” exclaimed Harran. “That’s still my horse!” He looked at Sherman. “I’ll let you have it for twenty gold.”

Sherman frowned and reached into his pocket.

Harran suddenly laughed. “I’m just kidding, Sherman! Just take it, will ya?”

Sherman grinned sheepishly. “Thanks.”

Zylor shook everyone’s hand in farewell, and when he got to the elf, he tentatively held out his hand.

Della smiled bashfully and placed her tiny palm in his big, hairy one. “Bye, Zylor.”

“What, no kiss?” asked the powerful minotaur. He bent down and waited.

Della reddened and wrinkled her nose as she kissed his hairy face. When it was done, she wiped her mouth quickly.

Sherman and Kazin chuckled.

“There!” said Zylor, straightening. “Now I can claim that I am so attractive that even an elf kissed me!”

Everyone laughed and the dwarves and minotaurs departed for the caves to the south. Harran stopped at the crest of a hill and watched as Kazin and the others entered the portal and disappeared from view. Then he turned and followed his men into the nearby caves.

A few hours later the minotaurs and dwarves parted company. Harran gave Zylor an updated map with all kinds of shortcuts to the east. The minotaur thanked him and the two friends promised to keep in touch.

“I’ll let you know as soon as a leader is chosen,” said Harran.

As the dwarf trudged home with General Manhar and the troops behind him, he thought about what he and Zylor had discussed in their last hour together. They had worked out an agreement where hostages would no longer be taken. Instead, the dwarves would trade dwarven weapons and goods (including locks), for food grown on the minotaur plains. Wild boar meat was extremely sought after by the dwarven people, and the minotaurs had plenty to spare.

Harran’s thoughts drifted briefly to Horst and the people of Haven. He had a reward of ten times his original wealth coming to him, and he decided it would be put to good use helping the people of Haven to overcome any hardships they had endured. If Harran came to power, the people of Haven would, of course, have their honour restored and be offered a chance to come back into the dwarven realm as equals. But he thought that many of them would respectfully decline, content to remain where they were.

Even so, Horst would be given a seat on the council, as a representative of Haven. Other members on the council Harran would elect were representatives in treasury, mining, mapmaking, out of realm management, construction, military, weapon forging, trade, etc… .

Zylor jiggled the pouch at his side and trod through the caves with confidence. His warriors followed, and General Karlan brought up the rear.

When morale began to deteriorate due to the darkness and closeness of the walls and ceiling, Zylor called a halt and made sure his warriors were equipped with wildhorn leaves, water and dried meat. He instructed them to use their wildhorn leaves sparingly, and to stay close to the torchbearers if they felt hemmed in. It was a long walk home, but he was confident of getting them back in record time. His confidence eased tensions and many of the younger warriors, and some older ones too, looked up to him as a true leader. He led them unerringly through the caverns like a true pathfinder. No one had skills even remotely close to the emperor’s in this regard, and Zylor preferred to keep it that way. It was a good way to get the respect he needed to remain their leader. True, there was bound to be the odd challenger in the years to come, but Zylor was confident his reign would be long and well liked.

He pulled his dice out of his pouch and looked at them closely in the nearby torchlight. They appeared to be ordinary dice, but he knew they were not as simple as they seemed. They were magical. It wasn’t ordinary magic, either. They not only allowed him to win each time, they were theft and exchange-proof. Arch Mage Krendal had told him this, and he had found out from experience over the past few days. Anyone attempting to switch the dice for others would discover too late that they had switched their dice for their own! Zylor’s lucky dice would always remain in play!

Krendal had also mentioned that the dice could be addictive and harmful if in the wrong hands. Zylor understood all too well the effects magic could have on someone, and vowed not to overuse the magical dice. He would only use them for really important bets or harmless fun. There was one minotaur he had to pay back very soon, though. That minotaur was holding the fort back home.

Zylor grinned as he carefully put away the dice. He thought of all the years of mockery he had endured from this minotaur regarding his luck. Garad was going to pay! Big time!

Chapter 73

The queen of death comes back to life.

The world is filled with toil and strife.

In each end of the land war breaks out.

The people cry loudly, ‘Help!’ they shout.

But no one comes to his brother’s aid

for in their lands the price must be paid.

Alone they cannot prevail, but together they can

defeat the darkness, every dwarf, elf, and man!

From out of the north darkness will enter the land.

Throw aside your own burdens and lend a hand!

The sky will rain arrows and acid, the ground will bring forth dead,

the final battle will come to a head.

Do not assume then, that all will be complete!

For the one we fear most, must be made obsolete!

He hides where he cowers, and claims he is best.

Seek him out now and put him to the test.

To kill him is not easy, the task is not small.

A sacrifice must be made or you will surely fall!

The sword of the Guardian will end its long wait,

and stab its oppressor before it’s too late.

The sacrifice is made; we’ve severed the thread,

but alas—the queen is already dead!

The children must then reign strong and supreme,

and all this will pass as if a bad dream.

K
azin closed the Book of Prophesy. Obviously, some of this had already come to pass. It was the part that hadn’t happened yet that worried him. What sacrifice had to be made to defeat the necromancer? Was it someone’s life? If so, whose? He pondered the words he had just read and didn’t like what he saw. Well, he supposed, they would find out soon enough.

He put the book back into the pocket of his robe. He had deliberately not mentioned the Book of Prophesy to Krendal, knowing the arch mage would certainly take it away from him. Kazin felt he might need it in the days ahead. Unfortunately, the book only raised more questions than it answered. It would never make sense until the time described was upon them.

The lunch break was ended and everyone mounted up again. They rode quietly for a while, engrossed in their own thoughts. A few hours later, they rode past a few burned out chimneys and walls.