King Of Souls (Book 2) (30 page)

As if sensing his despair, the bear cub peeked her head out long enough to give Ronan’s cheek a long wet lick.

Ronan cocked his head and glanced over his shoulder.

The bear cub tilted her head in return matching his gaze and blinked.

“Thanks. I needed that. Let’s go get Rika okay?” The bear cub’s head disappeared sliding deeper inside the pack before Ronan adjusted the bag’s flap. He turned to face the dragon wall and smiled.

Gouts of white steam sprang from a two-foot crack running the wall’s length.

“I think we just found the back door girl.” Ronan channeled magic into his shield and strode toward the crevice. He peered inside, but even with heightened vision, he couldn’t see past the wall of steam. He took a step backward, felt for his blade strapped across his shoulder, and placed his leg into the opening.

Hot steam plowed into Ronan’s spirit shield before splitting and flowing around him like a diverted river.

Ronan inched forward feeling his way through the steam like a blind man. After he’d made three feet of forward progress, the first inklings of panic stopped him in place. What if he stepped into a thousand-foot hole? He might spring any manner of trap lurking around him. He snaked his arm over his head and found his blade’s grip just over his right shoulder. He slipped his blade free and channeled energy through its core until it glowed bright-red. With a slight flick of his wrist, Ronan lowered his blade until it hovered near his leather boots.

Plumes of white steam gushed around the sword and spirit shield. But, Ronan’s blade added light enough to reveal solid black rock under his feet.

Ronan squeezed ahead moving another five-feet through the narrowing crack. He stopped when the stone wall pressed against his chest and back. He caught his breath and channeled more enhancement magic into his vision squinting through the steam.

A few feet ahead, faint light penetrated the steam revealing an end to the dragon wall.

In such tight confines, Ronan’s spirit shield couldn’t find open space enough to form a proper barrier. His shield ended where his body smashed into the rock leaving him wedged like a cork in a wine bottle.

Slabs of heavy black rock pressed against his chest smashing his lungs as Ronan surged ahead. His breathing came in short, hard, labored pulls, and he pushed away rising panic. Trickles of blood oozed down his back where the sharp rock scraped against his back.

Ronan’s adrenaline spiked, and hot panic washed over his mind. If he channeled greater strength to push his body through the crevice, he might forever wedge himself in place. Even now, moving backward presented a major challenge.

The pack on his shoulder shuddered, and the bear cub stuck her head out resting her snout on Ronan’s shoulder.

Despite his shortness of breath, Ronan smiled. “At least one of us will make it out alive.” His words came out labored, and he pulled in short breaths of already thin mountain air.

Lines of sweat streaked Ronan’s neck. The bear cub raised her head long enough to lick away the moisture before returning her chin to Ronan’s shoulder.

Ronan closed his eyes and drew in a calming breath. He pulled back the enhancement magic flowing through his flesh. Too much magic would stiffen his muscles, skin, and bones. He needed the opposite and the magic would only serve to increase the chance of wedging his body in the rock. A painful idea rattled through his thoughts. He shot a quick glance over his shoulder. “You’ll want to hide in the pack for this next part.”

The bear gave him a sideways glance and withdrew, sinking into the leather pack.

Ronan pushed the air from his lungs, and dropped his shield.

Searing white-hot steam slammed into Ronan’s face, hands, and chest soaking him in moisture.

Ronan let loose an ear-piercing yell as steam roared over his flesh like a thousand red-hot pokers. Blackness crept into his field of vision while consciousness threatened to slip away. He held his breath and channeled pure spirit, pouring added strength into his legs, arms, and shoulders. He pushed forward and felt his flesh rip beneath his shredded tunic. But, the steam’s moisture coated his flesh letting him slide through like a greased pig.

Ronan reached ahead groping for the wall’s edge through a mask of red pain. His fingertips brushed the sharp edges of hot slippery rock, and he pulled using all his strength.

A horrific ripping sound and the sharp crack of breaking bone rose over Ronan’s screams. His body broke free and he plunged ahead into open-air and freedom.

He landed with a soft thud face first on hot arid sand as waves of mind-numbing pain rolled over his body.

Dozens of blisters covered his hands and face, and his side throbbed where his ribs had snapped. Blackness swept through his mind while his body began shutting down. Ronan's thoughts grew scattered and dream-like.

The pack over Ronan’s shoulder slipped away, and the bear cub leaped ahead. She spun and crouched low growling at Ronan as if awaiting a response, but he didn’t stir. The cub scuttled ahead and grabbed his shoulder pack in her teeth and pulled, but she couldn’t budge his motionless body.

Ronan felt a distant tugging, and his mind screamed at him to wake. Using his last shreds of consciousness, he touched his white magic. He channeled, and a river of cool relief flowed through his body knitting his muscles, bones, and flesh. With a slight grunt, he pushed onto his hands and knees before opening his eyes.

The bear cub bounded around Ronan as he paused on hands and knees. She nuzzled her snout beneath his chin and licked his cheeks and neck.

Ronan found his blade, lying a foot away, and sheathed it before standing. He took a quick glance at his surroundings, and his stomach sank with a sickening nausea.

Ronan stood inside a roughly circular sandy arena. Rough black walls circled the interior and glistened as steam poured over its surface.

He glanced at the bear cub who perched by his side leaning against his leg. “If I never see another grain of sand, it’ll be too soon.” Ronan turned in a slow circle taking in his surroundings.

Curls of steam rose from the sand beneath Ronan’s feet. The mist stretched like a thin white blanket across the summit’s quarter-mile expanse. Around him, nothing stirred, and by all appearances, Dragon’s Peak stood empty.

Ronan knelt and scooped up a handful of glittering white sand. He stood and opened his palm letting hot dry sand grains slip through his fingers leaving a dry billowing dust cloud in its wake. He crossed the sand’s surface until he stood near the summit’s center and waited. Ronan had never seen an active volcano, but from what he’d read, Dragon’s Peak carried all the signs.

The bear cub stood ten-feet away with her fur raised growling at a half-buried object in the sand. Sunlight sparkled from the object’s gleaming surface.

Ronan crossed the arena and knelt studying the strangest rock he’d ever seen.

Blue, white, and yellow crystals coated the odd rock’s visible surface. It glittered like priceless jewelry under the bright sunlight.

Ronan moved his hand to extract the rock and froze. Beads of sweat dribbled down his neck and rolled beneath his collar and down his back.

His pulse raced as a sickening realization struck him. He jerked his hand from the dragon’s egg and sprang to his feet.

A bellowing roar echoed from the nest’s interior walls and carried across nearby peaks and canyons. Gusts of wind accompanied the chilling sound of heavy wings beating less than twenty yards away. Sand and dust swirled stinging Ronan's eyes and face.

Ronan stiffened, and his flesh crawled. Raw fear flashed behind his eyes, and he reached for Elan’s lifesaving magic. He channeled an ocean of power and placed shields around him and the bear cub strong enough to withstand a hundred-foot fall. He yanked the sheba blade free of its sheath and commanded power through its core.

The ground beneath Ronan’s feet rumbled as a golden-scaled dragon settled onto the white sand. Its jaw opened exposing a half-dozen rows of razor-sharp serrated teeth. The beast lumbered forward and stretched out its neck. It loosed a hair-raising roar that sent a fresh wave of sand and dirt flying into Ronan’s shield.

Ronan’s hands trembled, and he struggled to hold his blade steady. Never had he faced a being more powerful, and he knew the dragon controlled shield magic. He took two steps backward and channeled a horde of blue spirit energy into his palm.

The bear cub scrambled forward and reared up facing a golden giant three-hundred times her size. She squealed a high-pitched growl as the shaggy hair on her back stood on end.

Behind Ronan, the white sand shook a second time, but with greater depth and power.

Ronan spun extending his palm toward a gleaming red dragon somehow larger than the first. His jaw dropped open, and he stood frozen in terror.

The red giant lumbered forward glaring at Ronan through gleaming golden eyes and opened its jaws.

Ripool

A charging black stallion galloped along the stronghold’s outer wall. Devery Tyrell sat atop its saddle shouting commands to every warrior within earshot. Spirit shields sprang to life covering twenty soldiers nearest Bawold’s sealed gates. Tracers of blue energy followed in Devery’s wake coming from energy leaking from his open palms.

Tara stood inside Bawold’s tallest guard tower. Her gaze locked on the soul knight who could ruin decades of careful planning. She needed to secure Ripool and the bounty of rich souls inside its walls, and she needed to act fast. General Demos and his elite soldiers would play an intricate role in securing Meranthia. They couldn’t sit in the ice-locked sea any longer without sinking.

Devery’s stallion skittered to a halt before an ashen faced Captain Redford. Steam curled from the stout captain’s slackened jaw. He stared motionless at the stronghold’s closed gates.

Devery glared down at the captain and shouted harsh inaudible words. He pointed toward the navy ships preparing to set sail at the shipyard docks. Captain Redford ignored Devery and the dozens of soldiers scrambling for cover.

Tara moved to the tower’s opposite side and surveyed the battle for control inside Bawold’s fortress.

A half-dozen dark soldiers descended on two over-matched guards near the southeastern tower. Auras of dark mist radiated from her pets and enveloped the guards seeping into their noses and throats.

The first guard screamed his sword clattering to the cobblestones while the second collapsed to his knees and wept. The dark soldier’s black aura turned even the bravest soldiers into simpering cowards.

Tara felt nothing as her pets went about their business. She’d extended her hand in partnership to Elan’s centuries ago, and he’d rejected her outright. These people would suffer his foolishness.

A dark soldier’s blade flashed then slid into the guard’s chest skewering him like a ripe tomato. Tara’s pet twisted his blade before yanking it free of the guard’s body, and his precious soul fled his lifeless body.

Black mist clung to the guard’s soul, trapping it like a fly in a spider’s web.

Tara’s mind moved through the link connecting her to the dark soldier. A connection fueled by his soul under her control. She gazed through her pet’s eyes and watched the dead guard ooze blood onto the already red cobblestones. She plucked the guard’s soul from the dark soldier’s mist and consumed it adding his energy and soul thread to her reserves.

The dead guard stood and grabbed the sword he’d discarded moments earlier while still alive. Black mist blossomed from his skin’s pores and thickened twisting around his body in a vapor-like mist. With speed and ferocity unreachable during his life, the former guard flashed his blade downward. It sank into the second guard’s spine who cowered on the ground nearby.

A shriek of pain came an instant later, and the guard’s body sagged, his soul slipping free of his flesh.

Tara collected the untethered soul and added it to her growing power base. She ordered him to rise granting him a dark soldier’s power.

Around the courtyard, fighting raged, but its result no longer remained in doubt. Tara’s dark soldiers hacked and cleaved the living harvesting fresh souls in their wake.

As flickering gray light appeared in the dark soldier’s mist, Tara converted each soul to a dark soldier or a souleater.

Along Bawold's ramparts, dead archers, reborn as souleaters, rose and waited Tara’s command.

Already armed with longbows, Tara’s new pets could deal quick death from three-hundred yards. With a thought, she entered a souleater’s body who stood near the shield knight still arguing with Captain Redford.

“Order those boats to turn about captain, or I will,” Devery said.

Captain Redford’s face flashed red with fury. “You don’t have the authority, and I won’t order my warships to open fire on our own soldiers!”

“Our men are dead captain,” Devery gestured toward the ramparts. “Those abominations have replaced them!”

Captain Redford stiffened and tugged the bottom of his uniform jacket. “I refuse to believe we’re dealing with anything more than a few rogue villagers who played dead.”

“You’re an idiot.” Devery whirled his stallion about. He charged along a row of shielded soldiers crouched a hundred yards from Bawold’s gates. “I want any soldier equipped with a bow to arm themselves with fire shot.” He raised his hand glimmering with blue energy and pointed toward the ramparts. “Target those archers.”