The Dragon's Test (Book 3) (18 page)

“Alrek De’nezir, I summon thee!” Eldrik said in a shaky voice. The same pu
ff of smoke appeared, but this time the warlock knelt next to Eldrik.

“What is your wish master?” the warlock said.

Eldrik looked to him with trembling hands and a quivering voice. He tried to muster his most authoritative posture. “You revealed your identity as a warlock to someone outside the order,” he said.

The warlock’s eyes went wide and he quickly bowed his head. “Forgive my indiscretion, master. I swear it will never happen again!”

Eldrik looked to Gondok’hr. The former patriarch shook his head and drew a line across his neck. Eldrik thought of his own true name and his body stretched and ripped into his darker, beast-like form. The kneeling warlock cowered before him and held his hands over his head.

“Mercy, I beg for mercy!”

In his beast-form, Eldrik felt no pity as he had only a moment ago. Instead of a shivering man he saw only a quaking worm, unworthy of the gift inside of him. Eldrik stretched out his clawed hand over the warlock and envisioned drawing forth the man’s life energy. No sooner did the image appear in his mind than a terrible, thunderous crack rent the air around him and a ball of mist and light ripped free of the trembling warlock and entered into Eldrik’s mouth. He felt the warmth and power grow inside him as he consumed the energy. A hunger was born inside of him in that instant. It grew even as he fed on the magical energy, awakening something deep within him that lusted for raw, unfettered power.

When he was done he instinctively wiped his mouth with the back of his long, leathery arm. He stretched his wings out wide and roared mightily, blowing the flaps of the tent as if he had sent a great wind from the depths of his throat. He turned and looked to Gondok’hr. The man stood smiling, clapping softly. Silvi stepped forward and placed a hand on the tuft of hair on his chest.

“Your men will not follow you in this form,” she reminded him.

His mind turned back to the warriors from his home. He agreed and returned to his human form. The change wearied him, but Silvi held him fast.

“Well done,” Gondok’hr said. “Now, so that you may know you can trust me, I will grant you the knowledge of the coven. Here is every member’s true name, use the knowledge as you see fit.” Gondok’hr rushed forward and placed his thumb against Eldrik’s forehead again. In rushed a steady stream of names, faces, and images. All at once Eldrik saw each warlock, understood their abilities and magical strength, and knew of their past deeds and accomplishments for the coven. Then the flow stopped and Gondok’hr pulled away.

“Only one patriarch can exist,” Silvi said. “By giving you the knowledge, he has relinquished his right to be our patriarch, and he remembers our names no more. The next time the warlocks see you, they will feel the shift in your power, and will become your servants.”

“What of you?” Eldrik asked weakly as he turned to face Gondok’hr.

“I still retain my magical abilities,” he said. “But now I am a warlock without a coven. I am close enough to my goals, that I no longer have use for the coven. Take it, do what you will with it. I have given you the strongest start I can. If that doesn’t prove to you that I can be trusted, then nothing else could.
Help me burn Lokton Manor to the ground, and our master will reward you.”

“Who is the master you speak of?” Eldrik asked.

Gondok’hr shrugged and walked for the tent flaps. “You will meet him soon enough,” he said as he held one of the flaps open. “Now go and get some rest. In the morning we strike. Also, keep your men at the rear of the camp, we don’t want them mixing with my army prematurely. I doubt they would like the idea of working with warlocks and the undead.”

Silvi assisted Eldrik
to leave the tent and Gondok’hr closed the flap behind him.

“A most impressive display,” Djekk said from the shadows.

“I thought it a nice touch,” Gondok’hr replied. “Now I have finished with the coven, and the fight against Erik will be stronger. Have you been successful?”

Djekk stepped forward and shook off his invisibility spell. “I have the amulet,” he said with a crooked, toothy grin. He
held out the emerald necklace for Gondok’hr to see.

“Your brother?” the warlock asked.

“He fell, but his sacrifice gave me the distraction I needed to lift the amulet. I sliced the necklace and took it without so much as tickling Gilifan’s neck.”

“Kobolds are the best thi
eves,” Gondok’hr commented.

“You remember our bargain?” Djekk asked.

“Give me the amulet, and your debt is paid in full.” The kobold’s smile grew so large Gondok’hr thought the creature’s teeth might leap from his mouth. He bounded forward and placed the amulet into Gondok’hr’s hands. “Was there anything else?” Gondok’hr asked.

Djekk reached into his pocket and gingerly removed an old, yellowed parchment with worn, cracked edges. He carefully unfolded it. “I believe this
is the original inscription for the correct spell.”

“Excellent,” Gondok’hr said. He laid a hand on the kobold’s shoulder. “You are free to return to your people. You are in service to me no longer, your debt is paid.”

“What will happen to you?” the kobold asked.

“I will put the boy’s head on a platter and leave it here for the dragon as a parting gift. Then I will disappear, much like you, my friend.”

The kobold nodded and a distant look came over his eyes for a moment. Then he looked back to Gondok’hr. “May your feet be silent and steady, your knife sharp and quick, and may your enemies never see you coming.”

“Same to you,” Gondok’hr said.

Djekk grinned and winked out of the tent like a star disappearing in the morning light.

Gondok’hr turned the jewel over in his hand. “Now I can return home,” he said.
“Just kill the boy in the morning and then I can leave this all behind me.”

Lady Cedreau crept through the tunnel’s opening and peered into the dark chamber before her. The water glowed with the familiar silvery green hues dancing in the mist hovering above the surface. A pair of dragonflies swirled around each other as they flew over a patch of blue cave lilies and disappeared out of sight.

“I have been expecting you,” an old familiar voice called out.

Lady Cedreau stepped into the chamber, looking toward the cauldron where she finally spied Hairen. “As well you should have,” she replied bitterly. “I warned you to leave my son alone.”

“But he is not your son, and he never was,” Hairen cackled. “Now he belongs to our coven.”

“No,” she spat. “I warned you.” She reached into her robes and pulled an old wand made of hickory wood. She pointed it at the old witch and a bolt of blue lightning leapt from the wand to devour Hairen.

Hairen laughed and quickly cast a shielding spell. The blue lightning glanced off of an opaque, red sphere around her and the cauldron. “It will take more than a wand to defeat me, Leanor.”

Lady Cedreau heard a snarl from her left and turned to aim her wand at the new t
hreat emerging from the pool. A great, two-legged monster slowly raised itself before her, extending its webbed, claw-tipped hands out for her and shrieking horribly. She blasted the beast with a ball of fire and sent it hurtling through the air to crash back into the pool. Without another word she drew a rune in the air with her wand and blew it toward the water. Instantly the surface froze tight, cracking and sizzling as the magical ice captured everything it touched and held it solid.

“I see you have not lost your touch,” Hairen commented. The old witch dissolved her shield and overturned the cauldron. A plume of purple smoke rose up from the viscous pinkish black goo oozing out. The smoke formed a veil between them and a great serpent squirmed in the ooze, hissing and spitting venom and fire as it slowly emerged from the liquid.

Lady Cedreau walked forward across the ice, undaunted by the demonic serpent. “Face me, witch!” she growled. The snake loomed forward, slithering side to side and bearing its needle-like fangs. Lady Cedreau summoned a great eagle with a flick of her wand and the bird streaked down, piercing the snake’s side with its dagger sized talons. The snake hissed and squealed horridly, lashing up to bite the eagle, but the bird’s thick scales protected its legs as it flew off with its prey and let out a high pitched shriek of victory.

The smoke crackled and lightning rippled over its surface, but still Lady Cedreau came forward. She sent three blasts of fire into the smoke wall and then she summoned a great sphere of energy to blow the smoke apart. The smoke groaned as it was rent in twain. Lady Cedreau saw Hairen only for a moment through the clearing. The old witch had her black wand out and was quick to repair the magical barrier. The smoke slammed together with the force of a great thunder, shak
ing the chamber violently. Lady Cedreau poured her rage into every spell she threw at the wall. “Face me!” she yelled out. “I will not let you sit behind your magic after what you have done. You killed my husband, you slew my innocent little boy, and now you have entrapped my eldest son in your coven. You will answer for what you have done.”

“It was not me who killed them!” H
airen called from behind the wall.

Lady Cedreau summoned a bull made of fire and sent the beast at the wall. Its hooves sparked as it tore the stone floor apart and gained speed. Flames trailed behind it and it lowered its head with a mighty bellow. It slammed into the wall and the spell finally gave way. The smoke crackled and groaned as the great, red bull broke through and trampled the spot where Hairen had stood only moments before.

“You could have used your magic to save your husband,” Hairen chided. “You could have gone with him to the battlefield.” The old witch appeared far off to the side, next to a great desk made of stone. She summoned a massive ball of water and dropped it onto the bull. The animal hissed and dissipated into a thin cloud of steam and smoke as the water overcame the magic that brought him into existence.

“I swore to him I would not use magic again as long as he lived,” Lady Cedreau snarled back. She turned her wand to point at the ceiling and sent bolt after bolt of lightning into the stone overhead.
The stone split and cracked, dropping large hunks down. The great boulders slammed into the ice over the pool and the stone floor around the two witches. The cavern shook and trembled.

“What are you doing? Do you want to kill us both?” Hairen shouted. The old witch
threw a stabilizing spell up to the ceiling, strengthening it with magical columns of energy that arched underneath and spread over the surface of the ceiling.

That was exactly the opening Lady Cedreau had been looking for. She rushed forward, flashed a dagger, and stabbed Hairen through the heart. “Not both of us,” she replied. “I will pay for my sins, of that I am sure, but not until after all three of you lay at my feet.”

Hairen’s mouth gaped open and she slowly turned her eyes to look at her. The old, gray orbs lost the spark of life then and Hairen’s neck twitched. The witch was no more. Lady Cedreau removed the dagger and let the old witch fall to the floor.

“What have you done?!” a familiar voice shouted from the far side of the chamber.

Lady Cedreau turned to see Merriam standing just inside the chamber with her hands up to her temples. “How convenient,” Lady Cedreau whispered to herself. She backed away from Hairen and prepared her wand. She knew that Hairen’s stabilizing spell would soon lose its power now that the witch was gone, and the ceiling would become vulnerable again. She had only to bring Merriam far enough inside to prevent her escape. “I put a dagger through the old hag’s heart. Apparently it isn’t made of stone after all,” she said as she proudly displayed the bloody dagger.

“I’ll kill you for this!” Merriam promised. She rushed in, sending fireballs with her left hand while her right
hand threw thin bolts of lightning. Lady Cedreau quickly cast a ward spell, summoning a golden shield of energy between her and Merriam’s assaults. She strengthened the shield with her left hand and turned her wand to the ceiling.

As soon as the golden columns and arches winked out she dropped her shield, absorbing a couple of Merriam’s lightning bolts in the chest as she sent one final spell up to the ceiling. A boulder of blue energy slammed into the stone ceiling, rending it asunder and dropping the entire chamber down.

“Kus-em-ia,” Lady Cedreau said as she called a rush of wind to aid her. The wind propelled her forward, toward the exit. She blew past Merriam and zapped the witch with a stun spell as she whirled by her. Merriam’s ensuing screams were cut short as a cacophony of boulders slammed down to the ground and the chamber caved in upon itself.

Lady Cedreau’s hip and back were caught by falling shards of stone, but with the help of her spell she managed to exit the cave just as a great wall of dust, dirt, and small bits of stone exploded out from the magical tree that served as the entrance. She flew out and landed on the ground, rolling until she slammed into a small tree a few yards away. Her body ached, and her mind was bleary and exhausted from the attack, but she had done what she had wanted to do.

She looked back to the magical tree and watched it shrivel like a great slug baking in the sun. The wood warped and cracked as the magical force which gave it life dissolved and disappeared. She pushed herself up to her feet and brushed herself off. She then sent one final fireball to the pedestal that granted entrance into the tunnel. Her spell exploded the final vestige of the coven, showering the shriveled tree in bits of stone and pottery.

“No more will this den give birth to such spiders,” she said. Then she turned and started the walk back to her home. It was time to find Silvi.

*****

Erik lay awake in his bed.
His mind raced through the recent events too quickly for him to find peace. Only a short time ago, he had been in this very bed lying awake and wondering about Tukai’s prophecy. Now, with his father murdered, he was even more confused than ever. He was sure his father had no other children, so who killed him? Or, perhaps the prophecy was about the tribunal. Perhaps Erik inadvertently caused his father’s death by trying to save him? He sat up in his bed and looked out his window.

Th
e half-moon beamed silvery rays into his room. He rose and stood in the soft light, looking down at the smoldering ground around the manor. The fire in the moat had long died out, only a few stubborn, dying coals glowed in the night. Periodically a flame would jump up, perhaps caused by a midnight breeze, but the roaring fire was gone. Pockets of black and gray ashes littered the ground. The dead that belonged to House Lokton had been removed from the field, so he knew the bodies that lay about now were those of his enemies. At least he could take heart in the fact that the battle was decisively won in his favor. The reports had marked only a couple score of casualties for his men. There were at least seven dead enemies for each of House Lokton’s fallen, based on Braun’s calculations.

Erik stepped to the window and ran his hand along the sill. He remembered the last time he was in his room. It was the night the Blacktongues had come for him. A raven had lighted upon his window and woken him up with a warning. He looked up to the night sky and imagined he saw a raven now, soaring over to his window. He watched the imaginary bird descend down, its stark feathers shining in the moonlight as it effortlessly approached. It grew bigger as it came near. It cackled “ca-caw!” as it swooped down.

It was then that Erik realized it was not his imagination. The large bird landed on the window sill and stared at him with its golden eye, twitching its head up to look at him before hopping over to the glass. Erik drew in a breath, too afraid to move.

The bird took one look at the glass and then tapped the window three times. It hopped back and looked at Erik again. “ca-caw!” it squawked. Then it tapped three times again and flew off into the night, disappearing silently into the darkness.

Erik stood there, mouth agape and hardly breathing. What was he supposed to do now? What did three taps mean again? Why had a raven returned? Erik shook his head and rushed for his door. He yanked the knob and pulled the door open. A guard startled and snorted awake on the other side as Erik stumbled into him.

“Get up!” Erik commanded. He crossed the hall and threw the door open to a guest room where Wendal and Orres were sleeping. “Master Orres!” Erik said. “I need you to wake up.”

Orres’ eyes opened and he slowly struggled to sit upright, shaking the sleep off with a yawn and a quick stretch. “What is it?” he asked.

Wendal sat up
also and he knocked on the wall next to him. A few seconds later Lady Arkyn walked into the room.

“I heard your knock,” she said. “What’s the matter?”

“We can’t wait for the sun,” Erik said. “We need to strike tonight, now.”

Orres regarded him with a wary eye. “What are you about?” he asked. “We won’t be able to see out there. If we lead a charge our men are as likely to slice into each other as they are to hit the enemy.”

“No,” Erik said with a quick wave of his hand. “Not a full charge, just us.”

Wendal scrunched his brow together. “Just us?” he asked. Erik nodded.

The big man shook his head. “No,” he said. “I know your legendary feats as well as anybody else, but this would be disastrous. I am barely able to walk without ripping open my sutures from the battle at Kuldiga Academy, and Wendal needs to rest before he will be able to wield any significant spells.”

“But if we attack now, the warlock’s forces won’t be recovered either. We would have the element of surprise.”

“He has a point,” Lady Arkyn said, agreeing with Erik.

Orres shot her a sour look. “I heard about your lucky shot to the firedrake’s eye, but don’t let it go to your head,” he cautioned. “We need t
he daylight, and we need our full force if we are to have a chance.”

Erik crossed his arms and let out an exasperated sigh. “That is what the enemy expects,” he said. “But they wouldn’t expect a few of us to attack tonight.”

Orres shook his head and laid back down. “Go back to bed,” he said. “You almost got yourself killed today, I am not going to follow you to my death tonight.”

Lady Arkyn crossed the room in three steps and slapped Orres’ feet off the bed so they thunked on the floor and m
ade him awkwardly arch his back as he clasped a hand to his side and grimaced.

“What’s gotten into you?” he bellowed.

“Since when has the mighty Orres been afraid of a fight?” she retorted.

Erik stepped forward and put himself between them. “A raven was at my window just a moment
ago. It tapped a warning. I know it sounds crazy, but if we don’t do something tonight, then we are all doomed.”

“A raven?” Orres grumbled as he sat back up in his bed.

“How many times did it tap?” Lady Arkyn asked.

“Three,” Erik said. “It tapped three times, then crowed at me, and then it
tapped three times again.”

“Lepkin
is right, we have no choice but to act. The raven has warned that death comes for him, but can yet be avoided.”