Mask of Dragons (35 page)

Just a few more moments, and Liane would be free.

###

“We’ll challenge each other, you say?” said Mazael. “To what? Dice? Jousting? A drinking contest.” He gestured towards one of the glittering piles of treasure. “I’ve always wanted to drink cheap wine from an expensive goblet.” 

“You think to make jokes?” said the Prophetess, her tone frosty.

“You worship a giant spider that you think won’t eat you,” said Mazael. “If that doesn’t call for mockery, than nothing does.”

Azurvaltoria let out a rumbling laugh. “Bold. I can see why you like him, Lady Romaria.” 

Romaria smiled. “He’s also very good a ridding a woman of her enemies.”

“Enough!” said the Prophetess. “I did not come here to endure feeble japes. State your challenge, Azurvaltoria. By the laws of the binding laid upon you, I command you to speak your challenge!”

The dragon’s pale eyes seemed to flash with displeasure, a glimmer of fire dancing behind her fangs, but she spoke nonetheless. “I understand that among humans it is common to decide disputes with a trial by combat between two champions. The Prophetess already has a Champion – the tainted human in the process of being consumed by one of Marazadra’s relics. He can serve as the Prophetess’s champion in the combat. You, Lord Mazael, will have to choose a champion.”

“I choose myself,” said Mazael at once. He had faced Rigoric before, and he had the former orcragar’s measure. He had overcome Rigoric once before, and he was sure he could do it again.

He was also sure that the Prophetess would attempt some kind of treachery. 

“Ridiculous,” said the Prophetess. “The next age of the world is imminent, and you think to decide the course of history with a simple brawl?” 

“You decided to challenge me, Celina du Almaine,” said Azurvaltoria. “By the laws of my binding, you have the right to challenge me…and I have the right to set the terms of the challenge.” The fire behind her teeth brightened. “If you refuse the challenge, that is your right, yes. You can act within your rights. But so can I.”

“Very well,” said the Prophetess. “I accept.”

She looked at the Mask upon its altar, and then back at Azurvaltoria, smiling a little. 

“The path of wisdom at last,” murmured the dragon. “The Champion and Lord Mazael shall face one another in a duel to the death. I shall summon a circle of flame at the base of the shrine. Anyone who crosses that circle shall die at once, and the duel shall continue uninterrupted until one man is dead.”

“Can we remain in the circle?” said Romaria.

“If you wish,” said the dragon, indifferent. 

“And if we interfere in the duel?” said Romaria. 

Azurvaltoria let out another rumbling laugh. “Then I shall kill your champion upon the spot, along with all your companions. You should do well to heed that, Prophetess.” 

“And when I prevail,” said Mazael, “you will kill the Prophetess?”

“Of course,” said Azurvaltoria. “Though if you fall, I shall likewise kill all of your companions.”

“And when I prevail, you will permit us to depart with Liane?” said Mazael.

“I shall,” said Azurvaltoria. “Though if you attempt to steal from me, none of you shall leave the Veiled Mountain alive.” 

“Very well,” said Mazael, looking around to make sure the others were nearby. Romaria stood near him, as did Adalar and Earnachar. Timothy waited halfway around the circle, and Basjun stood a few feet away, Crouch at his side, the dog’s wary eyes fixed on the dragon. Sigaldra was…

Mazael frowned. Where the hell was Sigaldra? There had been one Crimson Hunter left as well, and the creature had disappeared. 

“The duel begins now,” said Azurvaltoria, raising a clawed foreleg, and Rigoric stepped forward, raising his greatsword.

“Wait,” said Mazael. “She’s…”

“Sigaldra!” shouted Adalar.

Mazael saw Sigaldra standing a dozen paces behind Liane, creeping forward. She flashed a furious look at Adalar, but she did not see the final Crimson Hunter gliding up behind her, legs tensing as it prepared to spring.

Adalar sprinted towards her as Azurvaltoria cast a spell, blue fire bursting from the earth.

###

The blue fire curved in a ring before Adalar, and he threw himself forward and jumped with all his strength. 

The heat from the ghostly blue flames struck him like a blow, and pain shot through him. Yet his momentum carried him forward, even as the flames erupted into a blazing wall. His clothes caught fire in a few places, but Adalar hit the ground, so he rolled, tumbling forward and smothering the flames.

He came to his feet an instant later.

“What are you doing?” snarled Sigaldra. “I could have saved her, I could…”

Adalar plowed into her, knocking her sideways before the silent Crimson Hunter’s pincers ripped off her head. Sigaldra stumbled, turning, and shrieked as she saw the Crimson Hunter surge towards them. Adalar shoved her behind him, striking with his greatsword. The heavy steel blade rebounded from the giant spider’s gleaming carapace. The Crimson Hunter lunged at him, and Adalar deflected its stabbing legs with him sword. 

The blade shattered on the impact. 

The heat of the salamanders had damaged the steel, and he suspected their blood had an acidic quality. Carrying the sword through the freezing cavern had weakened at it further, and the blade had finally given away. 

“Run!” screamed Sigaldra, grabbing his arm, and Adalar turned and sprinted after her. 

The Crimson Hunter clacked after them in pursuit. 

###

“Adalar!” said Mazael.

It was too late. The ring of blue fire encircled the clear area at the foot of the shrine, a circle about sixty yards across. The flames themselves blazed twenty feet high, and to judge from the charring upon the stone floor at their base, Mazael suspected attempting to cross the flames would result in a painful death. 

“We have to delay the duel,” said Mazael. 

“It has already begun,” said Azurvaltoria. 

Mazael pointed at the Prophetess. “She is cheating.” 

“How, my lord Mazael?” said the Prophetess, lifting her eyebrows. “I am abiding strictly by the terms the dragon has laid upon us. I have not crossed the circle, nor I have attempted to aid my Champion against you.” 

“You sent your summoned Crimson Hunter after Adalar and Sigaldra,” said Mazael. 

“Your vassal…”

“He’s not my vassal,” said Mazael.

The Prophetess’s lip twisted. “Your…companion crossed the circle of his own free will, and happened to be fast enough to escape the flames. I released my control of the Crimson Hunter the moment I agreed to the dragon’s terms. It is not my fault the Crimson Hunter has returned to its customary predatory behavior once free of my control.” 

Mazael doubted that. Likely the Prophetess had implanted a final command into the creature, and sent it in pursuit of Sigaldra. The sheer pettiness of it enraged him, and he wanted to take Talon and split her smirking head in half. 

“Perhaps,” said the Prophetess, “the little bitch will regret her arrogance and stupidity in the final moment before she dies. Assuming she is not too busy screaming, of course.” 

The tears tricked down Liane’s face, her screams still muffled by the gag.

Mazael took a deep breath, letting the Demonsouled rage burn through him. He lifted Talon, the sword ready in his hand. If he was going to save Adalar and Sigaldra, if he was going to stop the Prophetess and her mad plan to summon Marazadra, if he was going to save Liane, there was only one thing to do.

Fight Rigoric and kill him while Azurvaltoria watched.

“All right, Champion,” said Mazael. “Let’s see if your goddess will save you now.”

Rigoric charged at him in silence, and Mazael rushed to meet him. 

Chapter 19: Game Over

Sigaldra sprinted past a glittering pile of jewels and gold coins, Adalar running at her side, still holding the useless hilt of his broken greatsword. The Crimson Hunter raced after them, its legs stabbing at the ground as the creature hurtled forward. The thing was at least as fast a cantering horse. Sigaldra and Adalar dodged around piles of coins and statues and rows of stone tables, but the Crimson Hunter kept on gaining. Sometimes it climbed over obstacles like a smaller spider. 

Her mind raced, but she could think of no way to fight the creature. Mazael’s sword and Timothy’s magic were the only weapons they possessed capable of wounding the Crimson Hunter, and both the hrould and the wizard were trapped within that ring of blue fire. Sigaldra did not know whether the Prophetess or Azurvaltoria had cast that spell. Perhaps the dragon had lost patience and decided to kill every single one of the intruders. Or maybe the Prophetess had some trick up her sleeve, some trick that even the ancient dragon had not foreseen. 

Sigaldra did not know, and she would never find out, because the Crimson Hunter was going to kill her. 

At least it would be quick. The Crimson Hunter would not pause to torment her like the soliphage in the cave. It would simply tear her apart. She only regretted that she had not been able to save Liane, and hoped that Mazael had something clever in mind. 

She glanced at Adalar.

No. She regretted two things. She regretted that Adalar had come with her to die here. He deserved better than that. He deserved better than to have met her…but she could not bring herself to regret meeting him. 

She only wished…

“This way!” said Adalar, turning to the left.

Sigaldra blinked, but followed as Adalar ran towards a row of stone tables. More arms and armor of the Dark Elderborn sat there, and sudden hope flared in her chest. Had Adalar found more of the silver arrows? But she saw no arrows, only rows of helmets and shields, all of which would be useless against the spirit creature. Yet even as she looked the hilt of a sword caught her eye, wrapped in black leather. 

Adalar had come here to get the sword. 

The dragon had warned them about stealing from her hoard, but since the Crimson Hunter was about to kill them, it hardly mattered. Adalar threw himself forward, seized the hilt of the sword, and spun. The sword was made from the same peculiar silvery metal as the Dark Elderborn armor and the arrows, and the blade came to a slight curve, similar to that of Mazael’s sword. The Jutai and the Tervingi had always used broadswords in battle, so Sigaldra could not remember if that kind of sword was called a saber or a falchion. 

The Crimson Hunter threw itself at Adalar, and he attacked. The silvery sword blurred in his hand, and the blade ripped a glowing line down the spider’s thorax. The sword did not bite as deeply as the arrows or Talon, but it did wound the Crimson Hunter. Some of the grayish light from the wound seemed to sink into the Dark Elderborn sword, which itself began to shimmer with identical light. 

The Crimson Hunter retreated, its glowing eyes fixed upon Adalar and his sword. Adalar sidestepped, keeping himself between Sigaldra and the spider, and the creature moved with him. 

It did not intend to let them go.

“Adalar,” said Sigaldra. 

“Run,” said Adalar, not looking back at her. “Get back to your sister. I’ll hold it here! Go!” 

She hesitated. Part of her wanted to run to Liane. The rest of her knew she had no way of passing that massive ring of blue fire. 

And she did not want to abandon Adalar to his death. 

Adalar let out an aggravated sound. The spider feinted forward, and he flicked his blade towards it.

“If you’re not going to go,” said Adalar, “then at least find a damned weapon!” 

Sigaldra ran to the stone tables, looking for something she could wield against the Crimson Hunter. 

###

Mazael and Rigoric met in the center of the ring of fire. 

Rigoric attacked first, all his strength and speed behind the blow of his massive greatsword. Mazael knew he could not have blocked that terrible strike, so he didn’t even try, changing his angle at the last moment. Rigoric’s blade blurred over the top of his head, and Mazael straightened, stabbing with Talon’s curved point. The sword of dragon claw started to bite through the mail covering Rigoric’s elbow, but the Champion leaped back, avoiding the rest of Talon’s thrust. Mazael thrust again, but Rigoric flicked his sword to the side, deflecting Mazael’s attack. The Champion stepped into the attack, driving the edge of his sword towards his opponent.

Mazael got Talon up to block, gripping the weapon with both hands. A sword of steel would have shattered under the weight of Rigoric’s inhuman strength. But Talon had been wrought from the claw of a great dragon, and it had the strength of the last child of the Old Demon behind it. Rigoric strained against Mazael, but was unable to break the block. 

Mazael shifted his foot, moving to the side, and Rigoric stumbled. As the Champion recovered his balance, Mazael kicked out with his left foot, his boot slamming into Rigoric’s right knee. Rigoric remained silent as ever, but a rasping hiss escaped his mask, and he stumbled. Mazael went on the attack, landing three blows against Rigoric’s cuirass in rapid succession, though the Champion’s armor turned the sword’s edge. Nevertheless Talon left shiny cuts in the armor, bright against the dark metal. 

At last Rigoric recovered his balance, thrusting with the pommel of his greatsword. Mazael tried to dodge, but the heavy pommel clipped his shoulder, and he staggered back, circling away before Rigoric could strike again. 

For a moment they stood just out of reach of their weapons, regarding each other. Romaria and Earnachar and Timothy and Basjun stood motionless. Mazael hoped they would not intervene. He had no doubt that Azurvaltoria would kill them all of someone interfered. The dragon loomed over her wall of flame, watching the duel with obvious interest. The Prophetess stood below the dragon, eyes closed, both hands reaching into her robe, likely grasping the metal spider against her chest. 

Mazael was sure she was preparing a spell. 

But what kind of spell? Nothing to interfere in the duel, surely. Azurvaltoria would detect it and kill her on the spot. A spell to control the Crimson Hunter? The dragon would interpret that as interference and kill her.