The Hidden Realm: Book 04 - Ennodius (23 page)

“I should have never left the city,” moaned Ascilius, covering his face with his powerful hands. “Their empty eyes accuse me, telling me that this is my fault.”

“I must distract him,” thought Elerian to himself. “In a moment, his grief will change to rage, and there will be no reasoning with him. He will rush off to do battle with the dragon, throwing his life away for no good reason.”

Laying his left hand on the Dwarf’s shoulder, Elerian said gently, “I have also lost those that I loved, Ascilius, but I have learned that you cannot help the dead or change their fate. Think rather of those who might still be alive in the city and in need of your help.”

“We will find nothing but bones, no matter how long we search,” said Ascilius bleakly, sunk in the depths of his grief and despair.

“You cannot know that until we look,” said Elerian reasonably. “Let us leave this place. We are not safe here.”

“Go yourself, then,” said Ascilius, angrily twisting his shoulder out of Elerian’s grip. “I will wait here alone for Eboria.”

“You will come with me even if I have to lay an immobility spell on your cantankerous carcass and drag you by the heels,” said Elerian, now grown angry himself.

Ascilius glared at Elerian, red sparks floating in the back of his dark eyes, ready to flame up into a towering rage. Gray eyes cold as a winter wind, Elerian glared back. His illusion spell had fallen away of its own accord, and he was fully revealed, perilously fair with a faint shimmer about him that spoke of hidden power.

Finally, Ascilius took a deep breath. His eyes turned completely dark once more.

“He has played the fool so often that, that I had forgotten how dangerous he is,” thought Ascilius to himself. “He has the right of it, too. I must continue my search.”

Picking up his ax with his right hand, Ascilius used the haft as a staff, pushing himself up to stand on his feet again.

“Let us go then,” he said gruffly.

Keeping his eyes straight ahead to avoid looking at the bones on his right, Ascilius walked passed through a doorless entryway about thirty feet wide and twenty feet high in the side of the ramp column. Breathing a sigh of relief, Elerian followed after Ascilius, entering a large passageway whose floor inclined gently upwards, running straight ahead through many feet of solid rock. At the end of the tunnel was an exit that led to a second large passageway that ran at right angles to the first. The floor in front of the exit was level, forming a sort of landing, but when Ascilius and Elerian turned right and began walking, the stone floor beneath their feet began to incline gently upward at a barely noticeable angle, ascending to their left in spiral fashion.

The floors, walls, and arched celing of the ramp were all polished, reflecting the dim golden rays of Ascilius’s mage light with a strange, crystalline gleam that led Elerian to think that they might have been magically hardened. Ornate iron brackets intended to hold mage lights hung from the ceiling, but they were all darkened now.

“I wonder what carried the bodies of the Dwarves into the first hall?” wondered Elerian to himself as he followed after Ascilius with a light, silent step.

Although Ascilius had been quick to blame Eboria, there was a flaw in that assumption. Some of the slain Dwarves had almost certainly came from rooms not accessible to the dragon. It seemed more reasonable to Elerian to assume that the creature that had left the claw marks on the doors to the shops had also carried the bodies of its victims to the ramp hall.

“What sort of creature would use a chamber that is accessible to a dragon for a banquet hall?” wondered Elerian grimly to himself. “It must either be an ally of Eboria or so dangerous in its own right that even the dragon fears and avoids it,” concluded Elerian.

By the time the two companions came to a second entranceway on their right, Elerian guessed that they had ascended through hundreds of feet of solid stone. As before, the floor of the ramp leveled out in front of the the exit, forming a level landing. Cautiously, with the Dwarf’s mage light dispelling the darkness before them, Ascilius and Elerian left the ramp, walking down a large passageway whose floor inclined downward at a slight angle. Before long, the two companions reached an arched doorway.

Ascilius had feared to find the doors to the ramp locked, but the two great steel doors before them hung open, suspended from massive hinges supported by enormous steel pins driven into the living rock on either side of the doorway. The door on the right appeared untouched to Elerian, but the top hinge of the door on his left was torn in two so that the door leaned outward at a steep angle, supported only by its twisted bottom hinge. The destruction of the door was a frightening display of the immense strength residing in Eboria’s gleaming body, for Elerian was certain the dragon had ripped it from its hinge.

“Something is very wrong,” Ascilius whispered in a worried voice as he stared with dismay at the open doors. “These doors should have been closed and locked long before Eboria reached them.”

Passing warily through the doorway, the two companions found themselves in another chamber similar to the one on the level below them. There was debris on the floor, but fortunately for Ascilius’s piece of mind, there were no bones.

As he followed Ascilius toward the nearest of the service tunnel entrances that pierced the wall of the hall, Elerian saw that this chamber was more ornate than the one on the second level. The pillars supporting the ceiling were carved into the shape of great trees, their mighty, twisting limbs stretching across the roof overhead. Stone leaves and small branches, carved in wondrous detail, grew from those limbs thirty feet above their heads, but here and there, Elerian saw gaps in the foliage, as if portions of the ceiling had been torn down.

“Enchanted stone birds with jeweled eyes sat on those limbs, filling the chamber with their sweet song,” said Ascilius who had seen Elerian staring up at the ceiling. “Eboria must have torn them all down to loot their gems,” he said angrily as he led Elerian through the entrance to the service tunnel that he had selected.

They passed through many feet of featureless, solid stone before they came to their first crossroads where the smaller tunnel crossed the first of the large boulevards that completely circled this level of the city in concentric rings. The floor, walls, and arched ceiling of the intersection were all highly polished stone, gleaming softly in the reflected rays of Ascilius’s mage light. Large iron brackets holding glass globes hung from the ceiling above the junction, but none of the mage lights that had burned in the spheres was lit.

“Eboria must prefer the dark,” thought Elerian to himself as he waited beside Ascilius in the doorway, both of them listening intently. “It hampers her prey but presents no barrier to her third eye.”

No sound came from the inky darkness that rose up like a wall at the distant edge of the pool of light cast by Ascilius’s faint light. A deep, tomblike silence filled the air.

“Let us cross quickly whispered Ascilius,” stepping into the intersection. As Elerian followed him, his third eye opened of its own accord, as it often did in the presence of magic. On his left, in the middle of the boulevard, Elerian saw the shimmering red mantle of an illusion spell. Beneath the veil of the illusion, Elerian saw the dim outlines of a huge red shade creeping stealthily in their direction.

EBORIA’S SECRET

Stopping abruptly, Elerian raised his left hand, casting a parting spell at the slender, shimmering red thread of power that tethered the illusion to the creature’s right paw, neatly severing it in two. Immediately, the illusion vanished, revealing a small dragon perhaps twenty feet long that had been hiding in the passageway on their left disguised as a part of the street. The dragon's scales glittered red gold in the dim rays of Ascilius’s mage light. Its large eyes glowed like green lamps.

“Enemy to your left,” shouted Elerian to Ascilius as the dragon pounced. The two companions leaped in opposite directions, Elerian to the left and Ascilius to the right, both of them barely evading the long, hooked claws of the dragon.

Roaring in annoyance at missing its strike, the dragon darted its long, horned head at Elerian, its scaled, supple neck resembling a large serpent. Elerian twisted to his upper body to his right to avoid the creature’s gaping jaws, which shot past his left shoulder.

While the dragon’s attention was on Elerian, Ascilius leaped forward, striking it squarely on the knee joint of its left hind leg with his ax. His ax blade rang sharply, as if it had struck steel. The force of the blow numbed Ascilius’s powerful hands, causing his ax handle to slip out of his grasp when the ax head skittered off to his left, grating across the small, glittering scales that covered the dragon’s leg.

In response to Ascilius’s blow, the dragon whipped its head toward the Dwarf and darted the end of its sinuous tail forward. The razor sharp, triangular tip missed the right side of Ascilius’s chest by a whisker as he threw himself backwards. Elerian drew his sword, the slight rasp of steel on leather drawing the dragon’s attention back to him. Raising his sword high with both long hands wrapped around its hilt, he struck a mighty two handed stroke on the creature’s scaled head, between its up curving horns, when it turned its head to snap at him again. The tempered Dwarf forged steel of his sword made a ringing sound, as if it had struck iron, before breaking off near the hilt. Elerian felt the shock of the blow into his shoulders. His sword hilt clattered to the stone floor beneath his feet after slipping out of his numbed hands.

Stunned by the heavy stroke, the dragon shook its long, scaled neck vigorously, as if to clear its head, but as far as Elerian could tell, it was not damaged in the least. The keen edge of his blade had not even scratched its glittering, adamantine scales. Raising his left hand, Elerian narrowed his eyes and lit a mage light the size of two clenched fists, suspending it squarely above the dragon’s snout. A deafening roar of mingled pain and anger smote his ears as the bright rays of the magical light lanced into the dragon’s eyes.

“Run!” shouted Elerian to Ascilius. As he spun on his right heel to take his own advice, the dragon swiped blindly at him with its left paw, the tips of its hooked claws sinking deep into the front of his leather shirt, sweeping him off his feet and pinning him to the floor on his back. Struggling to free himself from the heavy, scaled paw pressing in on his chest, Elerian saw his mage light wink out through narrowed eyes.

“Just my luck, another magic user,” he thought to himself disgustedly as the dragon lowered its long, toothy jaws toward his face.

“I have you now,” said the dragon, glaring down at Elerian with hungry eyes that were still partially blinded from the intensity of Elerian’s mage light.

“Not yet,” said Elerian coldly.

Drawing his knife from his belt with his right hand, he thrust the long, gleaming blade of his weapon into the roof of the dragon’s partially open mouth. His sharp blade sank into the beast’s soft flesh, but at the first contact with the creature’s dark blood, it began to steam and dissolve. Uttering a piercing scream, the dragon jerked its head back, wrenching its soft palate away from Elerian’s blade. On his right, Elerian heard a muffled thud. Immediately, the dragon staggered to his left, releasing most of its weight from his chest. Supple as an eel, Elerian slipped out from under the dragon’s paw, leaping lithely to his feet. Sprawled on the floor near the dragon’s right side was Ascilius, a dazed look on his face. He had run full tilt into the dragon’s left shoulder, using his powerful body like a battering ram in a desperate attempt to free Elerian.

Casting away his useless knife, Elerian leaped forward and reached down with his left hand. Seizing Ascilius by his thick beard, he lifted the heavy Dwarf to his feet with an effortless pull of his sinewy arm. 

“Run!” he shouted, giving a sharp tug on Ascilius’s beard that elicited a roar of anger from the Dwarf.

Together, they sprinted across the intersection, Elerian in the lead with Ascilius right on his heels. Behind them, they heard a thunderous roar and felt a sudden rush of heat wash over them as the dragon sent a plume of red flame after them. A rush of intense heat on the seat of his pants followed by the smell of burning leather stimulated Ascilius into a remarkable burst of speed. Covering the ground in great leaps, he shot by a surprised Elerian on his left, crossing the intersection in the blink of an eye.

Despite his desperate situation, Elerian felt a twinge of jealousy that the dragon had succeeded in wringing a speed out of Ascilius that exceeded that of his best prank. Redoubling his own efforts, he caught up with the Dwarf as he darted around a corner to the right, entering another small service road. Ascilius ran past the first doorway he passed, but when he came to a second doorway on his right, he scampered through it. As Elerian followed on Ascilius’s heels, he saw that that a stout, iron door hung from the doorframe, one of the few he had seen in the city.

Elerian slammed the door closed, the lock clicking shut as Ascilius cast a closing spell upon it. A tremendous, hollow boom suddenly filled the room as the dragon struck the door. It shivered in its frame, but remained closed. Ascilius immediately cast a closing spell on the entire door as more heavy blows followed the first. The upper panel dented inward, and dust drifted down from the ceiling, but the stout iron door sealing the entryway gave no sign of giving way.

Abruptly, the blows ceased and there was a sudden silence on the other side of the door. Then, the door suddenly groaned on its hinges. With his magical eye, Elerian saw wisps of shimmering red light creep in through the cracks in the doorframe.

“The dragon must have cast an opening spell,” thought Elerian to himself. “Who will prove to be the stronger mage?” he wondered to himself as he watched Ascilius pour more power into his closing spell, struggling against the dragon for mastery of the door. Elerian put his left hand on Ascilius's left shoulder, letting some of his own power flow into the Dwarf. The wisps of red seeping past the door vanished, replaced by a uniform film of golden light as Ascilius’s spell became ascendant.

An angry hissing sound like a vast teapot bubbling over came from behind the door. The bitter smell of hot iron suddenly filled the room, and a cherry red spot began to grow in the center of the top half of the door.

Ascilius raised his right arm. Elerian saw a golden orb fly from the Dwarf’s hand, striking the growing crimson blotch on the door. The hot iron creaked as it began to darken and cool. Elerian and Ascilius both started when a wonderfully rich, resonant voice suddenly spoke from behind the door.

“You cannot escape you know,” said the red dragon. “You will be found no matter where you hide.”

“Take care that Eboria does not find you first,” warned Elerian. “She may not be pleased to find you so close to her stolen treasure.”

“My dear fool, I am here at her command! I have helped plunder all of the smaller rooms and tunnels where my mother’s magnificent size would not permit her to enter. Rich was the feasting and more than magnificent was the treasure which I helped recover for my queenly mother.”

“Queen!” roared Ascilius, forgetting his own advice not to speak to dragons. “Thieves and murderers is what you are!”

The Dwarf sprang at the door, crimson sparks burning in his dark eyes. Elerian seized him by the shoulders, but it was like trying to restrain a falling boulder. With muscles grown hard as stone, Ascilius dragged him forward, seizing the door handle with both powerful hands before trying violently to twist it open. Luckily, in his sudden rage, the Dwarf had forgotten about the closing spell that he had placed on the door. As he struggled to wrench the door open, Elerian quickly cast a spell of immobility over Ascilius, freezing him in place before the locked door.

The red dragon, who knew nothing of what had taken place on the other side of the door, suddenly spoke again.

“Open the door and I will discuss your grievances against us. There is no need to be angry,” he said soothingly.

 Elerian felt a sudden desire to both see and speak to the creature from which that wonderful voice emanated. A compulsion grew inside of him to open the door. From the look in Ascilius’s eyes, Elerian guessed that the Dwarf was also in the grip of the dragon’s command, although he could not move a muscle. Hastily, Elerian cast a protection spell over himself, a mantle of golden light spilling out from the fingers of his right hand to cover him completely, like a golden cloak. The pressure inside his mind to open the door immediately faded away. 

“You will have to try some other trick to get us to open that door,” said Elerian mildly.

“You have delayed your fate, nothing more,” said the dragon angrily, for it was annoyed now as well as hurting from the injury to its upper jaw. “We will feast on your flesh, just as we feasted on the Dwarves who dwelt in this city.”

“I will make boots out of your hide before this is over,” said Elerian, unable to resist taunting the dragon.

At these last words, the creature lost its temper and began pounding on the door again, filling the room with hollow booms that smote the ears of the two companions one after another. Judging that Ascilius had calmed down by now, Elerian released him from the spell that held him immobile. As the Dwarf let go of the door handle, the blows suddenly stopped. A long silence followed.

“What now?” asked Elerian in a worried voice.

“I am not sure,” whispered back Ascilius. “The beast may still be outside the door, or it may have decided to go around to the front of the building. As one, he and Elerian glanced at the other door hanging in the doorframe across the room. It was made of oak, no protection at all from an angry dragon. “We must leave here at once,” continued Ascilius, “but if I choose the wrong door, we will walk straight into the dragon’s jaws.”

Sweat sprang out on the Dwarf’s broad brow as he agonized over the choice he must make. Suddenly ending his closing spell, he flung open the battered door before him.

The tunnel outside was empty.

“Quickly now!” whispered Ascilius, urgently motioning Elerian into the passageway beyond the door.

As soon as Elerian ran through the doorway, Ascilius leaped after him, slamming the door shut behind him before locking it again. A moment later, it suddenly shivered in its frame, and a frustrated roar overlaid with a weighty boom rent the air. As Ascilius had correctly guessed, the dragon had run to the front of the building, hoping to take them from behind. Without a word, the Dwarf sprinted away to his right with Elerian following close behind. The pounding of scaled flesh on iron faded away behind them.

“We must keep moving,” said Ascilius softly as they ran. “After its anger fades, the dragon will remember the open door behind it. Once it enters this tunnel, it can follow our scent like a hound.”

In silence, always listening for the click of claws on stone behind them, they continued down the passageway, past rows of doorways, most of them forced open. After darting across an intersection with one of the larger boulevards, they continued down the same tunnel until they came to an intersection with another service road. There, they turned to their left, slowing to a walk as they followed the passageway deeper into the city.

“Talking to a dragon for a second time was a dangerous, foolish thing to do,” Ascilius said reprovingly after a moment as he and Elerian walked side by side down the tunnel.

“You spoke to him first,” Elerian reminded the Dwarf. “You would have opened the door if I had not stopped you.”

Ascilius's face darkened for a moment as his temper flared again but then it quickly cleared.

“I lost my temper,” he admitted ruefully. “When I did that, I left myself open to the dragon's magic. Had I been alone, I would have opened the door without a thought for my safety. I thank you for saving me once again.”

“It was nothing,” said Elerian who had only been gently poking fun at Ascilius. “I can only imagine the anger you must feel against these creatures that have despoiled your city. Our narrow escape did serve a purpose, however. We now know what plundered the rooms that Eboria could not reach.”

“The appearance of the red dragon explains more than that,” said Ascilius grimly. “When Eboria forced her way past the gates, her dragonet must have run to one of the smaller ramps, forcing its way up the third level. It most likely took the Dwarves attempting to close the ramp gates from behind, delaying them long enough for Eboria to rush up the main ramp and destroy the gates. The whole of the second and third levels would then have been defenseless against their depredations.”

“The fourth level gates may also be open,” said Elerian, hesitant to add to the burden of Ascilius’s worries. “The red dragon was purposely obscure, but I would not be surprised if it had at least one sibling.”