The Dragon's Lover (21 page)

The Reaper Shard materialized behind Elyara and
Dagna. Elyara froze and Dagna seemed too stunned to react. The
creature was grotesque and terrifying. Feyden let loose his arrow,
but the wraith disappeared once more in a cloud of oily blue smoke.
The arrow sailed harmlessly into the jungle as Feyden uttered an
Elvish curse.

The Shard wraith appeared again, this time
accompanied by a second. The two towered over Bristol and Gunnar,
who swung their enchanted swords wildly, striking nothing. A smoky
tendril lashed out, striking Bristol across the chest and sending
him to the ground in agony. Smoke began to rise from his armor as
the poison ate through the metal like acid, and he twisted about as
Elyara ran to his side. She desperately sought to stop the damage
with one of her healing spells. The two Reapers disappeared, their
awful laughter echoing through the jungle, leaving Gunnar standing
as his sword dropped from nerveless fingers.

Lorifal could hear himself breathing and it sounded
harsh in his own ears. The Reaper Shards had done nothing yet and
already one of their band was down. He strained to hear, see, or
sense the monstrosities, and the suffocating silence was taking a
toll on his nerves.

The wraiths returned, and this time there were three
of them. One appeared to spring up from the ground directly behind
Dagna, and she swung her sword frantically. She did not strike
anything, but her frenetic swinging kept the creature at bay. One
appeared close to Idonea, who turned her staff upon him. Jagged
lines of blue electricity arced outward. The Reaper let loose a
shrill cry of annoyance. The lightning did not appear to do any
damage, but it was clear the Shard did not like it.

The third appeared near Gunnar once more, and he
dropped to his knees, scrambling for his fallen sword. Feyden
loosed another arrow. The aim was true and the Reaper dissolved to
avoid the projectile, but Feyden still cursed. They were not doing
anything other than holding the wraiths at bay; they had not
inflicted any damage thus far, and it was only a matter of time
before they were overwhelmed. He turned to Raine for guidance, who
seemed to be waiting for something, deeply concentrating.

“Come on,” she whispered, barely audible. “I know
there's one more.”

And she was right. This time when the Reapers
materialized, there were four of them, and the fourth materialized
directly behind her. But in that fraction of a second before the
creature fully occupied their plane, she felt the coldness on her
back and smelled the odor of corrupted flesh. She thrust the
enchanted sword rearward as the monster became fully corporeal,
impaling it with perfect timing. It contorted about in a mass of
noxious smelling smoke, screaming horrifically as it disappeared.
All three Reapers now focused on her and without pausing, she swung
the sword back around in a fluid motion, slicing the wraith nearest
her in two. The creature had tried to dissipate to avoid the blow
but Raine had been too fast. The abomination twisted in anger as it
screamed in rage and pain, but it, too disappeared into oily
smoke.

Dagna tried to move into the path of the third, but
she was thrown to the side. Her armor began to smoke at the point
of contact, and Elyara scrambled on all fours to her side. The
Reaper Shard reared to its full, terrifying height above the two of
them and Elyara screamed. Lorifal stepped in front of them,
swinging his battle ax about in a great arc to keep the wraith from
his fallen comrades. Idonea turned her staff on the wraith, but the
lightning seemed to no longer have any effect. Gunnar joined
Lorifal in swinging wildly at the creature, if nothing else than to
distract it from his vulnerable friends. Feyden took careful aim,
but the creature jerked as he let it fly. It pierced a tendril,
causing the Shard to scream in pain, but it sailed off into the
jungle like the others, causing only minimal damage. Feyden cursed
again.

Raine was in a quandary. The fourth Reaper was nearly
upon her but her companions were facing death. And with what most
would consider extraordinary bravery, yet to a Scinterian was
merely common sense, she took aim on the wraith that was bedeviling
her comrades and sent her sword sailing end-over-end. It impaled
the Reaper Shard in the back, causing it to shriek so loudly they
all covered their ears. The smoke twisted and turned into a small
vortex, then disappeared.

But now Raine was facing the final Reaper unarmed.
None of her non-enchanted weapons would have any effect on the
creature. Her body was ice cold and it was possible she could
freeze the monstrosity as she had the Membrane. But it would be a
slow attack and it was likely the wraith would flit to the other
plane then return, rendering the attack useless.

“Feyden!” she yelled, holding out her arm.

Feyden had notched his final arrow and was aimed at
the Reaper. He had hesitated because his attacks had been so
ineffectual and knew that he had only a single arrow left. And now
Raine was standing there in an odd position, her arm out from her
shoulder and parallel to the ground. But the position was familiar
and the event in the elven camp came rushing back to him. He
understood, and he altered his aim three feet to the left and let
the arrow fly.

The Reaper sought to dodge the missile, but the arrow
was not aimed at the abomination but rather was aimed towards
Raine's hand. And just as she had in the wood elf camp, she
snatched the projectile from the air with her wrapped hand, twisted
her wrist, and stabbed the wraith through its black heart. The
creature seemed paralyzed, so stunned by the act it did not realize
it was dead. There was no scream or shriek this time, only a low
rumbling, a hissing, a semi-groan, and a question in a croaking
voice filled with disbelief and wonder.

“What are you?” the creature whispered.

Raine stared into the monstrosity's eyes, and by
extent, into the eyes of its summoner,. “Soon enough,” she said
quietly, then yanked the arrow from the creature's body. The Reaper
Shard hovered for a moment, faded in and out, then simply
dissipated far more quietly than its companions.

Elyara was working furiously to stop the damage to
Bristol and Dagna, and Idonea, although not skilled at the healing
arts, joined her. Feyden and Lorifal were a little numb from the
quick battle and its most unexpected resolution. No one had ever
battled four Reaper Shards and survived, let alone killed them all
single-handedly. Although it was a feat of legendary proportions,
it was not one without consequences.

Feyden articulated those consequences. “I imagine
your bounty is going up.”

The circulation was returning to Raine's extremities.
Although the cold she felt when confronting pure evil could be used
as a weapon, it also could be debilitative by slowing her movement.
She rubbed her hands together.

“Yes,” she said, “I imagine I am in for quite a
welcome at the Gate.” She approached Elyara. “How are they?”

Elyara's expression communicated as much as her
words. “I am afraid not well. I don't think they can continue.”

This was the scenario Raine had feared. She could not
simply leave her companions in the midst of the Veil; it was too
dangerous. Yet it was clear they were in no condition to move
forward. The thickness of the miasma at their current location told
her they were getting very close to the outer gate.

Dagna stood with difficulty, and she pulled Bristol
to his feet. “We may not be much good in a fight, but we'll not
stay here and we'll not go back, which leaves us only one
choice.”

Although it was an extremely brave declaration, Raine
evaluated it with her Scinterian pragmatism. If she had to protect
the two in battle, it might distract her. But leaving them behind
would also prove a distraction as she had grown fond of them and
abandoning them to the creatures of the Veil would weigh heavily on
her mind. But the recent contact with both the Membrane and the
Shard Wraiths would in a way indirectly protect her companions far
more than all her physical prowess. Once inside the outer gate, she
had little doubt that all attention would be focused upon her.

“Very well. We'll keep moving. Let me know if you
need rest.”

CHAPTER 14

The outer gates rose up out of the mist of the Veil
like monolithic sentries. On each door respectively, carved in bold
relief, was a beautiful but frightening woman. The small band stood
before the gigantic doors, seven in awe and fear, one in neither.
Raine had stood before these doors before, giving little attention
to the figure carved on the great doors. But now the image filled
her with a deep foreboding.

“Idonea,” she said, turning to the dark-haired woman,
“who is this woman?”

“I believe it is Hel, the goddess of the underworld.”
Idonea said, examining the carvings, as well as the lettering and
figures that surrounded them.

The cruel arrogance on the face of the goddess was
breath-taking in its most literal sense; her expression made it
difficult to breath. She possessed a hideous beauty, a combination
of ravishing good looks and pure unadulterated evil, a look of
seduction that did not hide the fact that she intended to brutally
rape you then rip your head off afterward, or perhaps even
before.

“And what does the inscription say?” Raine asked.

Idonea turned to Raine. There was an odd disquiet in
Raine's voice, a pronounced uneasiness that was foreign to her.
Idonea's reply was measured as she examined the other woman. “It
says 'where hope dies.' Is something wrong?”

Raine shook her head, part a negation, and part as if
to shake off something. “No, no, nothing's wrong. I am a bit
disturbed that the gate is open.”

The others had missed that minor detail, having been
so absorbed in the horror and magnificence of the gates
themselves.

“Why is it open?” Lorifal asked.

“Well,” Raine said, resignation in her voice, “I'm
guessing it means someone is expecting us.”

The open gate was enough of an anomaly to cause some
of Raine's disquiet, but Idonea had a feeling that there was more
to it. Something about the gate had deeply disturbed her.

Raine pushed through the gigantic gate, which swung
open surprisingly easy given the enormity of its size, and the
others followed. Her thoughts for once were not on what they were
about to face, but rather on something she had faced previously.
She had not recognized it at the time, even having stood before
Hel's Gate before. But now, as she had stood before the gigantic
carved relief of the Queen of the Underworld, she recognized the
features instantly.

The face that had appeared just before she had frozen
the Membrane, the one of unutterable beauty and unspeakable evil
that had stared out among the orgy of appendages, had been
Hel's.

The courtyard was as immense as the outer gates. They
were now within a walled enclosure that gave no sense of being
enclosed because of its sheer size; it seemed to extend miles in
every direction. In stark contrast to the untamed jungle of the
Veil, the courtyard appeared well-maintained. The ground was smooth
and level, patterned with black and red tiles that curved about in
flowing pathways. There were trees that seemed to bleed a red sap
where they had been carefully pruned. Torches were placed every few
feet, and a quick glance would give the illusion that the entire
courtyard was ablaze.

The small band walked slowly into the courtyard. It
was strangely empty, and there was little noise beyond the licking
flames of numerous torches. They appeared tiny figures in the
immense space.

“I expected thousands of Hyr'rok'kin here,” Feyden
said quietly, “this is where they are coming from, correct?”

“Yes,” Raine said, her eyes scanning in every
direction, “the true Gate, Hel's Gate, is there.” She pointed to
the far end of the courtyard which seemed miles away. There was a
gate similar to the outer one they had just passed through, but
this one was even larger with more intricate and hideous carvings
upon it. Even from their great distance, the immensity of the gate
was evident. “That is the entry to the underworld and their only
access into the Veil, and then into our world. I am sure this has
been a highway to them of late, but I don't understand why they
aren't here now.”

That was not entirely a true statement. Truly, their
band could have been attacked at any time, across the Empty Land,
through the Veil, and now in the courtyard. Perhaps their
resounding defeat of the Hyr'rok'kin each time they had met had
tempered their enemy's response. Or perhaps the astonishing
destruction of the Reaper Shards had created uncertainty in the
enemy's tactics. But it was Raine's experience that such an enemy
would generally respond to such defeats with overwhelming force,
which meant their motivation went beyond simply killing them.

They walked slowly across the immense courtyard,
dwarfed by the grotesque statuary that spotted the grounds. After
what seemed an eternity of walking, they came to the center of the
courtyard where an enormous set of scales was placed. The two
platforms towered above them, one black as night, made of some type
of ebony material, and the other white as pristine snow, appearing
to be marble. The scales were balanced, each platform level with
the other. The mechanism was intricate, a marvel of
engineering.

Lorifal was dumbfounded. “This should not be
here.”

“You know this?” Raine asked.

“Yes,” he replied. “My people built this. These are
the scales of light and dark, created to measure the balance of
good and evil in the world.”

“For what purpose?” Idonea asked.

“Our intentions were noble,” Lorifal said, gazing at
the structure in awe, “but in vain. The goal was to increase the
amount of good in the world. But no matter how hard we tried or
what we did, the scales would return even with their fulcrum. We
could change things for the better short-term, or sometimes they
would change for the worse when our efforts were misguided, but the
balances always returned to equilibrium. We could not find a way to
use them.”