Return of the Dragon (The Dragon's Champion Book 6) (24 page)

“What about Marlin then?” Erik asked. “Can’t you give
him a vision with the real hero’s identity?”

The dragon shook his head. “It doesn’t work that way.
I have to send impressions, thoughts, and symbols. To send too much information
directly to another being is dangerous. It can result in madness. If Marlin had
died in the physical world, then perhaps I could summon him, but even then it
wouldn’t help. A spirit must have a personal connection with the mortal it
intends to visit. For instance, Tatev could come to you because he knew you,
and he had something that would help you. The others that came all had a
connection with you, even Tukai and the others that had opposed you in life.”

Erik thought for a moment. He turned and looked at his
body. He thought to ask about being restored to life, but then that would not
solve the problem of time. How could he run fast enough to fetch the true
Champion of Truth? Then he turned back to the dragon. “Wait, you said a spirit
must have a connection with the mortal it intends to visit, right?”

The dragon nodded.

“But you didn’t say
I
couldn’t go for that
reason. You only said that leaving this palace could destroy my soul. Do I know
the true champion?”

“You do,” Hyasintar Kulai said. “You have met him only
a few times, but your lives have crossed each other’s paths numerous times.”

Erik shook his head and shrugged. “Who is it?”

“To tell you would only aggravate you,” Hyasintar
Kulai said. “You would either live here knowing the truth but unable to do
anything about it, or you would try to leave, and risk being destroyed.”

“Then why let me try to take the test?” Erik asked.
“Why not tell me in the beginning who it was? I would have gone right away to
find the right person. I don’t need the power myself, I just wanted to help!”

The dragon sighed. “I see that you are almost as
stubborn as the Keeper of Secrets,” he said.

Erik shook his head. “I am
more
stubborn,” he assured him. “Lepkin would tell you that himself.”

A slight smile appeared upon the dragon’s features.
“Very well.
If I cannot stop you, then attempt to go
outside. If you survive, then I will give you the name you seek, and where to
find him.”

Erik didn’t hesitate. He ran to the wall and thought
of getting outside. As his body pressed through the blue energy, it was as if
he was being scalded by boiling water. The pain was so intense, far beyond what
he had just experienced, that he was knocked back to the floor.

“I tried to warn you,” the dragon said. “You won’t
make it through.”

Erik didn’t listen. He stood again and approached the
wall. He extended his hand to the blue light. It sizzled and cracked as his
hand neared. The pain returned. Erik pressed on. His fingers penetrated the
wall, but then they faded away, as if ripped from his soul altogether.

“Erik, please stop!” the dragon said. “It isn’t worth
it. There is nothing to gain from this.”

“No,” Erik said. “There is everything to gain. It will
work. It has to.” He pushed farther
in,
the pain
ripped his arm away from his spirit. He yelled and then ran toward the wall and
jumped in. The heat tore through him. He flew upward through the wall to get
out of the mountain. His legs began to fall away with every passing moment. His
soul was diminishing. He focused on Lepkin and the others. He could still hear
the dragon shouting for him to return, but Erik pressed on instead.

His spirit melted away. He looked down at himself and
found that the part of him that remained was nearly faded out of existence
entirely. He doubted anyone would recognize him if he made it out and managed
to appear to anyone, but he knew he had to try. The orcs were pressing from the
south. Tu’luh was going to be reborn. The Middle Kingdom needed a champion.

At last he saw daylight. He pressed against a
tremendous force that fought to keep him inside the palace.
Other
spirits gathered around, shouting and screaming for him to come back.
The dragons roared from far below the surface. Erik didn’t care.

If he could only make it out.

His left hand was barely visible at this point and
burned with such ferocity that Erik was sure he would be nothing more than a
floating head even if he managed to escape. Still he pushed it out toward the
light.

Suddenly the Immortal Mystic was behind him, calling
out to him. “Erik, why are you doing this?”

Erik glanced over his shoulder to see that Hyasintar
Kulai had returned to his human form. “I have to try,” Erik said. “I have to
find the champion. He can save everyone.”

“But you’ll die! You will be forever gone!”

Erik didn’t care. His left fingers finally poked
through the wall and he grabbed hold of the outside to pull himself through. He
screamed out as he struggled. The heat pulled and tore at his back and chest.
His legs burned away below the knees. His right arm was now entirely gone, and
part of his right side was melting away as well. The essence of his spirit
turned to golden flecks of light and then disappeared into nothingness.

I don’t need all of me.
Erik thought to himself.
I just need enough to send a message.
He pulled with his left hand and finally managed to
squeeze his head through what felt like a pinhole in a wall of brimstone. Most
of his body disappeared as he pulled. Then his left arm disintegrated. The
golden flecks jetted away from him as if propelled on a blazing breeze outside
the wall.

“Erik, I can’t save you unless you turn back!”

Erik wasn’t listening. He willed himself forward.
A ghost doesn’t need arms or legs.
I just need
my thoughts. That will be enough of me to find the champion. Then I can be done.
He willed himself farther and farther through the
wall. The fiery pain swirled all around him, evaporating his soul with every
second, yet somehow he persevered. The thoughts of his friend and their peril compelled
him onward.

At last he made it out. He was aware of what was
around him, but he could see no part of himself remaining.

“I did it!” he shouted. He looked back to the palace
and saw the spirits smiling inside. “Tell me who it is, I will go and find him.”

The Immortal Mystic smiled wide, tears streaming down
his face. He put his palms on the glass wall and came in close, leaning his
forehead on the wall.

“Who is it?” Erik asked again. “We have no time to
lose.”

“Erik, my boy,” the Immortal Mystic
said in muffled whispers.
“It is you. You are the Champion of Truth.”

A flash of red and golden light enveloped Erik. He was
ripped back through the wall, down to the great chamber, and shoved into his
mutilated body. Every pain he had felt left him now as he was restored in full.
His body was healed and his soul was returned to its whole state. Within
moments he felt a tingling sensation, as though his whole body had been numbed
and was now coming awake again. It was painful, but not nearly so much as it had
been before. Moreover, it was over in a matter of seconds.

Hyasintar Kulai was standing before him, again in his
dragon form. He scooped a talon beneath Erik and helped the young man sit up.
“You have passed the Exalted Test of Arophim,” he said. “You passed through
pain, the temptation of power, and the danger of eternal destruction. You are
the Champion of Truth.”

All of the dragons roared mightily.

Erik managed to stand on his feet. He looked to
Hyasintar Kulai and then he too let out a terrible roar that shook the very
palace as he emitted the burning white light.

“Come, now you must rest, and then you shall have the
rest of the power you need to vanquish Tu’luh, and to destroy Nagar’s Secret.”

Erik didn’t complain about the test, nor did he ask
about why it had been so terrible. He didn’t care. He had one singular mission
now, and his whole soul yearned to complete it.

Gilifan woke to find Tu’luh, reborn in the silver
hatchling’s body, staring down at him. The beast was now probably one hundred
feet long from snout to tail, and every bit as muscular as Tu’luh had been in
his first life. A keen, cruel wisdom sat in those gray eyes of his, hinting at
the danger should Gilifan cross him.

The necromancer rose to his feet. “You look strong,”
he said.

“I am strong enough,” Tu’luh replied. “It is time.”

Gilifan stretched his back and then nodded. He bent
down and pulled the book from under his mattress. “Let’s take it to the altar.”

“We don’t need sacrifices for this,” Tu’luh said.

Gilifan nodded. “I find it more appropriate to perform
the ritual here is all,” Gilifan said. “Besides, I will be momentarily weakened
when the spell is completed. I will need something to lean upon.”

Tu’luh growled as a pleasured grin stretched his
silvery lips over his sharp, curved fangs. “I will complete my portion first,
and then I will retreat into my den,” Tu’luh said.

Gilifan set the evil book upon the altar and opened it
to the first couple of pages. A black vapor rose from the book and the light in
the chamber seemed to be sucked into the tome slightly. Tu’luh moved his head
down low to the altar as Gilifan pulled out his amber amulet and set it beside
Nagar’s Secret.

“Kom bela muoch de sent’tei,” Tu’luh said aloud. He
placed a talon upon the page and pressed it into the book, not enough to tear
the sturdy paper, but just enough to indent the page. He closed his eyes and a
column of smoke rose up from the book. A sickly green light swirled up around
the shadowy smoke as though it were a great snake entwining itself around a
black tree trunk. The chamber shook and trembled, but neither Tu’luh nor
Gilifan paid any mind to that.

“Kos de alem beaoch con mes te’la,” Tu’luh said in his
thunderous voice. The green light struck out like a lightning bolt, attaching
to Tu’luh’s talon. The great silvery dragon trembled and quaked. He groaned in
pain as the spell pulled some of his energy into it. The green light spread out
thinly over his silver scales, as if he were being swallowed by bright pond
scum. Tu’luh repeated the first two phrases over and over until his entire body
was enveloped in the green light. Blood seeped out from under a few of the
scales on his head and rivulets dripped from his nostrils. Still he did not
stop.

He roared mightily, fire blasting the ceiling above
and scorching the stone. When he took a breath, the light surrounding him
infiltrated his body, running into his snout and throat. He swallowed the light
down and fought against it as pain gripped him from the inside. It was a
strange sensation, for a dragon to feel as though it was burning. Yet, that is
exactly how it felt. His insides squirmed and convulsed as the heat ripped
through every inch of his humongous body.

He continued chanting the two phrases for his part of
the spell for over an hour. Then the light emerged from him, although now it
was much brighter and infiltrated with veins of scarlet. The light pulled
itself back to the column of smoke, wrapping tightly around the blackness.

Tu’luh looked down to Gilifan.

The necromancer nodded. Now it was his turn. Tu’luh
turned and limped slowly toward a den he had created for this day that was
several hundred yards away from the altar. The mighty dragon would rest there
for a day to recoup, Gilifan knew.

The wizard placed a hand on either side of Nagar’s
Secret and began his own chant.

*****

Salarion watched the fighting in the streets below.
This had been part of their plan, to draw out as many of Gilifan’s goons as
they could. Hopefully that would make it simpler. Even she doubted that it
would. She glanced toward the east and the hairs on her neck stood on end. She
didn’t see anything, but she could feel it. She turned around to see Maernok
sharpening his dagger and staring at the blade intently.

“Maernok, it is time,” Salarion said.

“Are you sure?” the large orc asked.

The dark she-elf rose to her feet. “Remember, my magic
will make you invisible for only a few hours. It should be long enough to find
Gilifan and kill him, but don’t waste your time.”

“What about you?” Maernok asked.

“I will come with you for as long as I can, but you
must promise to kill me when I turn.”

“
If
you turn,” Maernok said. “Maybe we can get to them
fast enough that you—” Salarion cut him off.

“That isn’t likely. I will go as far as I can, but I
can see a dark cloud rising in the east even now. It will take some time to get
there, and then if any
portion of the inner caverns are
locked down we will be delayed.”

“Then let’s move.”

Salarion pulled out the box that held her father’s
essence.

“What is that?” Maernok asked.

“This will grant you immunity from the spell. It is my
father’s soul.”

“His soul?”
Maernok asked
skeptically. “How could you have such a thing? It belongs in Hammenfein.”

“No, I changed the spell when my father used it. I
cursed it so that when he died his soul would be trapped in this artifact. This
way, when the time came when Tu’luh had found a new champion, I could make
myself immune to its power.”

“So why not use it on yourself?”

Salarion smiled and shook her head. “There isn’t time
for questions.” She reached into the cube and pulled a dark crystal out. She
muttered something in Taiish, the language of the elves, and then she threw the
crystal at Maernok. The orc flinched, but the crystal exploded around him and
absorbed into his chest in a fraction of a second. Maernok grunted and rubbed
his chest,
then
he grinned.

“I can feel the magic in me,” he said.

Salarion smiled. “Don’t try to use the power, you have
no training and it will likely destroy you if you tried. At best, it would
alert Gilifan to our presence if you used any magic.”

“I prefer the blade anyway,” Maernok said. He raised
his left hand and a small, blue flame jumped up and then dissipated in the air.
“Still, I suppose I can see why others become obsessed with the pursuit of
magic.”

Salarion nodded. “Now I will cast the invisibility
spell and we will go.” She chanted another spell in her language and then they
departed, running through the crazy streets without turning a single head as
they ran off to the east.

*****

Gilifan smiled as the clear orb floated up from the
altar. He could see the soldiers and mercenaries in the cavern and old fortress
ruins. Then he waved his hand to expand the view to include all of Pinkt’Hu. He
wasn’t surprised when he saw the townsfolk fighting against the soldiers there.
It was an inevitable consequence for sacrificing so many of their kin. The
necromancer sneered wickedly. He knew that none of it would matter in the end.
All of the inhabitants of Pinkt’Hu would be under the control of the spell
within the hour.

The ritual was close to completion.

Not only would the living obey him, but on the morrow
he would use his enhanced powers to amplify his amulet. Then the dead would all
rise and follow him as well. Gilifan glanced to the blood-stained altar and
stifled a chuckle. All except for those who had their bodies
and
souls
sacrificed would rise again. That would be enough. As the spell continued
outward from the fortress, it would sweep over the whole of the Middle Kingdom.
Victory was complete. There was nothing that pesky young hero could do to stop
him.

He took in a breath, savoring the moment as he stared
down at the last phrase in the book. He lifted his hands into the air and
shouted the final words with all of his strength. Lightning ripped through the
chamber. The ground shook and the walls cracked and fractured.

Gilifan kept his balance by holding the edge of the
altar. He was spent now. His energy was depleted and he actually gasped for
breath. It didn’t matter. There would be no future threats against him. All
were about to be his. His eyes moved up to the orb. He saw a great wave explode
out from the mountain. As it stretched, he could feel the souls bending and
bowing to the power of the spell. Some individuals fell immediately, with
almost no resistance whatsoever, while others with stronger wills took as much
as a minute or two to fully surrender to the spell’s power. As each of them
were
dominated, Gilifan could use the power of the orb to
see through their eyes, listen through their ears, and control their actions.

The necromancer tested his control of a large warrior
by having him kneel before a thin man and commanding the thin man to take the
large warrior’s head. The warrior obediently bent his neck and even offered his
sword to the smaller man. Gilifan smiled at his triumph.

He would raise the large warrior again later with his
amulet.

For now he turned his attention back to the orb and
watched in delight as the wave expanded out to cover all of Pinkt’Hu. His grin
turned to a maniacal laugh as thousands of souls became subject to him. He knew
he shared the power with Tu’luh, but what did it matter? He had done it.
Victory was his. Despite the numerous setbacks and the meddling champions that
had harried him along the way, he had overcome all.

Gilifan stretched his hands out to the orb, as if to
hug the vision of conquest he saw before him. Then something went wrong. The
wave stopped just beyond Pinkt’Hu and died in the sea. Panicked, Gilifan waved
his hand to angle the orb and see where the wave was on the eastern side. To
his horror, it too had faded only a few miles beyond the mountain.

The spell had failed.

“NO!” Gilifan shouted as he slammed a fist down on the
altar. “This cannot be.” He searched the orb again and again, quickly changing
the viewpoint and searching for any shred of the expanding spell. There was
none to be seen. He fell forward onto the altar and shook his head. His mouth
hung open in shock and he stared blankly down at the pages before him.

That was when he saw it.

One of the Taish runes on the page before him had been
added to. He picked up Nagar’s Secret and inspected the rune closely. It had in
fact been changed. He hadn’t seen it before, but he could clearly see the newer
ink now. He scanned through the rest of the page and found several
more small
, almost imperceptible alterations.

“Salarion,” he said under his breath. She had to have
been the one to change it. Then again, why alter the spell only to give it to
him? Salarion had her father’s soul, which she could use for immunity from the
spell. Gilifan had always known she would use that to her advantage, but why
change the spell? Surely there must have been a reason. Perhaps she was saving
someone, or maybe she thought he wouldn’t notice? Whatever the reason, Gilifan
had to act fast.

If the spell was limited in range, then he would have
to transfer the power into an artifact so he could use it on anyone he came
into contact with. The longer he waited to transfer the power, the weaker the
spell would be.

He glanced up and could already see the light and
smoke fading away before him.

His eyes fell upon his amulet. It already contained a
powerful spell to raise and control the dead. It was the perfect object to send
Nagar’s spell into. Gilifan went to work, weaving his fingers and chanting
furiously. If he could finish the spell in time, then perhaps he could give the
amulet a range of several hundred feet. It wasn’t the world-conquering spell he
had wanted, but it would still provide him with the means to perfect his vision.

*****

Salarion pulled Maernok into a corner of the cave.
“The spell is completed,” she said. “I don’t have much time. Listen, we are
close. Go around this bend to the left. It will open into a chamber. There will
be two or three guards at the entrance. The rest of the chamber will be empty,
save for the large altar. Slay him quickly. There is no way to know where the
dragon is.”

“I will slay them both,” Maernok swore.

The invisibility spell that Salarion had enchanted
them with dissipated and Maernok clearly saw the horror on her face. Trembling
hands reached down and with one she handed her curved scimitar to Maernok. The
other plunged a dagger deep into her chest.

“I won’t let him take me,” she said.

Maernok stood, holding her sword and watching her
trembling body. Her skin began to lose its shine, and her eyes started to cloud
over. Even without being well versed in the ways of magic, Maernok easily saw
the spell’s effects on her.

“
You,
are an honorable elf,”
Maernok said. Then he finished her with her own sword, as he had promised, so
the spell could not take her.

From there he wasted no time. He ran with the sword in
hand past the geysers on his right, ducking around a sharp overhang as the
boardwalk slipped out to the left. The two guards stood near one of the
geysers, not even watching the boardwalk. It looked as though they had been
caught in the middle of a conversation when the spell had taken hold of them.
Now they were little more than zombies, standing and staring at each other
blankly.