Son of the Dragon (The Netherworld Gate Book 3) (3 page)

“Where are you going?” Talon’s mother called out.

“Father needs his sword!” Talon shouted.

“No, Talon come back!” his mother screamed.

“No, he is the captain. He can’t go outside without his sword! If the orcs come again he will need it!”

Talon was out the door in a flash. The two spirits moved along with him, walking through the slammed door and easily keeping pace with the running boy who was chasing his father down the path leading toward the meadow near their house. Even as a spirit, Talon could only faintly make out his father’s outline as the sun was beginning to drop below the horizon.

“Talon!” his mother called from behind.

The young boy shook his head. “Orcs attack at night.” The young Talon sprinted as fast as he could.

“Come,” Jahre said suddenly. He snapped his fingers and the two spirits caught up with the living memories of Jahre and Talon’s father.

“Are you certain today is the day?” Talon’s father asked.

“I am,” Jahre replied. “You know if there was any other way, I would pursue it.”

Talon’s father turned and smiled kindly to Jahre. “You have always been strange, father. For that I have both hated and loved you. Still, if you say that my boy is the one who can stop the End War, then let’s get on with it. I don’t want him chasing after us and discovering what we are about to do.”

“I love you,” Jahre said through tears as his voice caught in his throat and his shoulders slumped downward.

“And I you,” Talon’s father replied with a terrible sigh. “Get on with it then.” Talon’s father turned and put his back to Jahre. “Make it quick.” Talon’s father then dropped to his knees. Jahre pulled a curved knife from his belt and plunged the blade deep into Talon’s father’s back. Then the elf pulled his hair back in one hand and raised his knife to Talon’s father’s throat.

Talon still felt the same wave of anger come over him that he had as a boy, but now it was mixed with confusion also. His father had not been betrayed as he had thought as a boy. He was a willing sacrifice.

“NO!” the young Talon screamed from behind in the brief moment before the knife made contact with his father’s skin.

From the spirit’s close vantage point, Talon saw that his father turned around and put his hand out to stay the young boy. A spark leapt from Talon’s father’s hand toward the ground.

“No, Talon, stay away!” his father said in a strained voice. “It’s alright, stay back!”

“I have to finish it,” Jahre said decisively. The elf sage slit Talon’s father’s throat and spilled his blood upon the dirt.

“You see,” Jahre’s spirit said to Talon’s spirit as he pointed to the spark on the ground that Talon’s father had ignited. “It was your father who called upon the vines to stop you.”

Talon’s spirit watched the spark enter into a thick, green stem and then disappear into the ground. A moment later, a vine appeared out of the ground and wrapped around the young Talon’s ankle, thrusting him to the ground. Talon fumbled his father’s sword and struggled against the vine as it coiled multiple times around his leg like a massive, wooden snake. As the vines held the young boy, the elf sage continued his ritual.

“Your father knew what he was doing. He was buying your soul,” Jahre’s spirit said.

Talon looked back to the living memory of his father and felt the same crippling pain and fear as he watched the knife plunge into his father’s heart. The living memory of Jahre chanted an incantation, summoning forth a god from the underworld.

Talon watched as a black hole ripped through the air above his father. Through the hole stepped an immensely large figure. His feet were shod with burning coals. Ash fell from his feet as he walked, but the being seemed to feel no pain. His legs were massive, muscular limbs that were each larger than Jahre’s entire body. The being’s left hand emerged to grab onto the edge of the hole, and Talon could see skin hanging loosely from the exposed finger bones of the decaying limb. The arm itself was still encased in skin, though it appeared pale and dead. A hooded vest covered the being’s torso and head.

“Khefir,” Jahre said respectfully. “I herewith present my offering, as we agreed.”

Khefir reached up with his rotting hand and pulled back his hood. The young Talon ceased struggling against the vines which held him and froze instantly when he saw Khefir’s yellow skull. Black orbs looked down to Jahre and then to Talon’s father. Long, coarse white hair rustled in the evening wind behind Khefir’s skull. Khefir’s jaw bone freely moved and clicked as he spoke. “I accept your offering,” Khefir declared. He stretched forth his hand and pointed to Jahre’s knife. A black spark leapt from Khefir’s exposed index finger bone to the knife and the blood thereon began to glow. “See that you do not disturb me again, wicked elf,” Khefir threatened.

A group of massive, black tendrils burst through the ground, heaving dirt and grass through the air as they reached up and wrapped around Talon’s father. Then, they pulled him into the dirt as easily as if he had been made of water. Afterward, Khefir returned through his portal and the black hole resealed.

Jahre looked to the ground where Talon’s father had been and then he turned to face Talon. “Go home, boy,” Jahre said. The elf stretched his hand out and the green vines released their hold. Talon remained on the ground, petrified. Jahre approached and picked up the sword Talon had dropped. He pulled the blade from its sheath and examined it for a moment.

“If this was all prearranged, you could have been nicer,” Talon’s spirit said to the ghost of Jahre.

Jahre’s ghost nodded. “Perhaps, but I was never to see you again. I thought it better to teach you a lesson.” Jahre’s specter turned and narrowed its glowing eyes on Talon’s spirit. “The world was going to be a harsh place for you. I gave you the best advice I had at the time. If you realize now who I am, then you will understand that I gave the same advice to your father. Come, let’s finish watching. Reliving the memory in full will help you understand that I am not your enemy.” Jahre’s ghost pointed back to the scene and Talon begrudgingly turned his gaze toward it.

The young Talon was frozen with fear. His eyes were wide, glued to the blade that the elf now held.

The living memory of Jahre stepped closer to the young Talon and spoke. “I once told my son something, and now I will tell you the same thing,” Jahre hissed. “If you want to protect those you love, you will need to be faster, stronger, and smarter than your enemy.”

Jahre flipped the sword over and plunged the point into the dirt next to Talon’s face. The blade sliced over the young boy’s cheekbone. Talon recoiled away quickly. He leapt to his feet and charged forward, hands outstretched for his father’s sword.

“Faster, stronger, and smarter,” Jahre hissed again. Then he was gone.

Talon ripped the sword free and hacked away at the air. He swung furiously until he had exhausted himself. His chest heaved for breath, and his shoulders slumped under the weight of the sword.

“You were wrong,” Talon’s ghost said. “I still hate you.”

Jahre nodded and snapped his fingers. The two of them were instantly back in the dark chamber where they had started.

“No matter how many times you make me relive my parents’ deaths, I will always hate you. I, like Khefir, believe you to be a wicked elf. Whatever business you have with me, you can forget about it. I will not help you.”

“One final vision then,” Jahre said.

“Enough visions,” Talon replied. “I want nothing more to do with your meddling.”

“You have no choice!” Jahre shouted with such force that the very core of Talon’s soul trembled and quaked. “I gave my word to my son –
your father
— that I would fight for you. On Ea’s grave, I will get through that thick, damaged skull of yours if it is the last thing I do.”

A golden cord appeared from the darkness and wrapped itself around Talon’s spirit. The dead assassin tried to move, but found his struggles futile. He was the elf’s prisoner.

The darkness fell out from below them and the two spirits dropped down onto some valley that Talon didn’t recognize. There were strange trees that he did not know. The forest stretched out to the north for as far as he could see until a great range of snow-capped mountains stopped them. To the south were green, tall grasses covering hills and valleys. A river bordered the east, running out to the sea in the south.

Two armies were on opposite sides of the field. One had managed to build wooden palisades and blockades. The other had erected siege engines and marshalled a large force of footmen.

“What does this battle have to do with me?” Talon asked. “Is this a picture of the End War you keep talking about?”

Jahre sniggered. “This is a war of men. The End War will be much more than that. No, this battle has nothing to do with you.”

“Then why show me?”

Jahre pointed to the army on the western side. “If you look carefully, you will see a large man, dressed in heavy armor and shrouded in fire.”

Talon watched as catapults threw burning clay pots toward the palisade. The projectiles crashed and exploded, showering the area in flame and creating a thick blanket of smoke.

“You see, the captain of that army thought it would be a good idea to send one of his biggest men dressed as Basei.”

Talon’s interest piqued and he watched intently. A large man came forward, shouting and hollering as a group of enemy soldiers rushed out from the palisade. The large man cut through a number of them, pretending to call down fire from the sky as more catapults launched additional projectiles. Soon, the enemy soldiers were rushing back into the safety of their palisade, closing the gates and shouting out the name Basei as they ran through their camp sounding alarms.

“This isn’t going to end well,” Jahre said with a shake of his head. “Look up, Talon, and tell me what you see.”

Talon looked up and saw a large fireball, much like the one that had landed in his home village when he was a boy. He felt the same knot of fear grip him and twist his core. The fiery ball crashed down into the ground, melting the pretender in an instant and showering dirt and fire all around.

The giant demi-god roared and leapt out from the sphere. He held his left hand out and engulfed the western army with flame. The soldiers behind the palisade began to cheer, but their fortune was short lived.

Basei growled and turned on them in his fury. He cut the gate down with one swing of his mighty sword and then he set about his work of destruction. Bodies were hewn in two, tents and walls were razed to the ground. Basei even slew the horses. When he had finished, there were none left alive, just like it had happened in Talon’s village.

“Why do you show me this?” Talon roared.

Jahre turned and put a finger up to silence Talon.

Basei turned in their direction and started walking toward them, cutting down obstacles in his way as he scanned the area.

“This is no memory,” Jahre warned. “This is happening right now. True, it is in a land far from our own, but I wanted to show you what Basei does throughout Terramyr.”

“I already know Basei is despicable,” Talon replied.

“Who dares insult the mighty Basei?” Basei thundered. Fire and smoke whirled around the two ghosts, and Jahre moved in close to Talon, sliding a golden cord into the dead assassin’s mouth.

“A demi-god is not all-powerful, but we do not want him to find us yet,” Jahre cautioned.

Basei stormed toward them, but Jahre was able to whisk the two spirits back with his magic. As they ascended back into the clouds, Talon could hear the wailing, angry Basei down below.

“He slaughters indiscriminately,” Jahre said once they were back in the dark chamber. “I thought you should see that.”

The golden cords loosened and Talon was again able to move and speak. “I saw it before. Why do you think I am after him?”

Jahre held a finger up. “Then you agree he had no right to kill both armies just now?”

Talon narrowed his eyes. “Are you trying to play upon my conscience?”

Jahre shook his head. “No, I am trying to ply logic. You saw what Basei is wont to do. What do you imagine he will choose when the End War comes? Will he side with the world, or will he destroy it all just for the sake of having something to fight?”

Talon didn’t answer, but he didn’t have too. They both knew the truth of it.

Jahre moved in close. “Now, the question is, what would
you
do in his place?”

Talon turned a puzzled look on the elf.

“If you had Basei’s power, where would you stand in the End War?”

“You said that the council would send the four horsemen to destroy the world. Maybe I would side with them, and ascend to a higher throne.”

Jahre nodded. “But how would that sit with your conscience?” he asked. “Could you live with that reality? After all, to side with the four horsemen would mean that you would have to help them destroy everything. Young, old, male, and female.”

Talon shook his head. “Maybe I wouldn’t side with them,” Talon began. “Then again, I wouldn’t have to stop them either.”

Jahre pointed an ethereal finger at Talon. “No, I know you better than that, boy. You would yearn to protect the mothers of this world. You have, after all, one rule that you must live by. You don’t kill women. Standing by while monsters killed them would stain your hands as much as if you were swinging the sword yourself.”