Dragonvein - Book Three Read online

  Dragonvein

  Book Three

  Brian D. Anderson

  Dragonvein

  Book Three

  Copyright © Brian D. Anderson 2015

  Published by Longfire Press

  Names, characters and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author's imagination, or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or the publisher.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means whatsoever, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the publisher and/or author.

  Dedication

  For George Panagos

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Prologue

  Sitting on a rock at the mouth of the cave, General Hronso stared bleakly into the forbidding darkness of its interior. The air coming from within was dank, and he could hear the monotonous dripping of condensation falling from the jagged ceiling into pools of slime filled water.

  So far, he had remained almost motionless like this for nearly two days. He was quite used to it. As an elf he had been trained from a boy to have patience, and later on, after Shinzan changed him, the passing of time seemed to have little relevance at all. But now it was different. It was all he could do not to get up and turn back. To hell with the Emperor, he thought. Let him kill me. I would welcome it. But he knew this was an empty threat. Once issued a command, there was little he could do but obey. The alternative was too terrible to contemplate. Shinzan certainly would not kill him for his disobedience – though he was equally sure he would be begging for death within five seconds of his punishment commencing.

  His mind drifted back to his journey to this awful place. He had listened to the whispers in the dark; the secrets only spoken to a counted few. Fear was gripping the Five Kingdoms. Rumors of war and of the return of the mages had spread quickly. And as much as the name of Shinzan struck terror into the hearts of humans, the emperor had done his work well. The lies he had spread about the mages were now widely believed. Stories were told of their atrocities, some of which had actually happened. But it was Shinzan himself, and not the mages, who had committed them.

  Had anyone known that a Rakasa was lurking outside their windows – particularly the mighty General Hronso, they would have gone mad with panic. But he had not wanted them to know he was there. And part of him actually enjoyed hiding in the shadows and passing by unheard. It reminded him of simpler times before the wars, and before Lumnia had been ravaged by the blight that was his master.

  A deep rumble issued from the cave's darkness, snapping his attention back to the present. This, at last, was his invitation to proceed. After rising to his feet, Hronso took a deep breath before moving forward.

  The ground just beyond the entrance now glowed with a faint blue light – though human and dwarf eyes would be unable to see it. But he was once an elf. And though much of his heritage had been obliterated, his perception of magic remained intact. The spells Shinzan had cast here five hundred years ago were still just as potent today as when he had first created them. No one could ever enter without permission. And that which was imprisoned could never leave.

  As Hronso's boot met the barrier, both his body and spirit were instantly crushed by an overwhelming weakness. He staggered forward, very nearly losing his footing completely. Even the blade hanging at his side suddenly felt ten times its normal weight. A mere mortal, even if one had been invited inside, would never have been able to continue without crawling.

  For two hundred yards he pressed on. Such caves were generally filled with magnificent natural rock and crystal formations. But there was nothing beautiful about this place. Quite the opposite. Its high ceiling was twisted and gnarled, grotesquely resembling diseased flesh. And the air smelled of death…old death.

  At its end, the cave expanded into a vast chamber several hundred feet across and one-hundred feet high. Here, lying in a heap of decaying scales and flesh, he saw what he had come for.

  A dragon.

  But it was a dragon in little more than name. The creature's once powerful limbs were emaciated and frail, and its scales were a sickly gray color. Even the horns on its head and the spine running down its back appeared to be weak and brittle, as if they were made of chalk. Only the fierce glitter in its reptilian green eyes hinted at the mighty creature it had once been.

  “Have you come to release me?” boomed a voice that seemed to come from the very walls rather than the dragon itself. “You waste your time, elf.”

  “I am no elf, Garnak,” said Hronso. “I am like you. A prisoner.”

  “You know my name. Then it is my tormentor who has sent you. In that case, be gone.”

  “I cannot leave until I have delivered Shinzan’s message and you give your reply,” he said.

  “You will leave if I wish it,” Garnak countered. “Do not let this withered form deceive you. I am far from powerless.”

  The dragon shifted its head to face Hronso, gradually opening its maw to reveal teeth that were black and chipped. A red glow at the back of its throat was warning enough for Hronso to know what was about to happen. But he was prepared for this.

  As quickly as his weakened condition would allow, he withdrew an egg-sized green stone from the pouch on his belt. As he did so, a massive stream of fire erupted from the dragon, completely engulfing him. Not that it made much difference. Though he could feel the intense heat, there was no harm at all done to his clothes or flesh. For a full minute the onslaught of fire persisted. Finally, with a deep heaving breath that sent a ball of flames exploding just where the cave began to narrow, the dragon gave up.

  Hronso gave a thin smile. “As you can see, I am unharmed. So you have little choice but to hear me out.”

  Garnak glared at him hatefully while snorting a final puff of black smoke. “Relay your message then. But do not expect me to respond quickly. Your return home depends upon an answer, so I hope time is something you have in abundance.”

  Hronso shrugged. “Take all the time you wish. Though you may change your mind once you hear what I have to say.”

  “Speak.”

  “The Eternal Emperor Shinzan calls you into service,” he announced ceremoniously. “He wishes you to fight on his behalf.”

  A low rumble shook the cave, causing small bits of rubble to fall from the ceiling. Slowly the rumble transformed into cavernous laughter.

  “This is why you are here?” mocked Garnak. “To enlist my help?”

  “It is,” Hronso affirmed. “And in return you shall receive that for which you have so dearly desired for so long. Shinzan shall end your suffering and allow you to die.”

  The laughter ceased, and was followed by a long silence. “And how do I know he will keep his word?” Garnak eventuall
y asked.

  “Because when your task is complete, your life will no longer matter to him. Shinzan will not care if you die.”

  The dragon's eyes narrowed, as if searching Hronso for deception. “These words come from you, not your master,” it stated.

  “True,” he admitted. “But I know Shinzan better than anyone. And though I do not claim to read his thoughts, I do know his motivations. He will honor this agreement. Of this I am certain.”

  “And how will I fight? You see my condition. I am cut off from all strength. Unless he brings his enemies to me here, I can do nothing.”

  Hronso held up the stone still in his hand. “This will make you strong again and enable you to leave this place.”

  Garnak blew out a contemptuous breath of hot air. “You think me a fool? It will enslave my will and leave me at the mercy of the vilest creature ever to plague this world.”

  It was Hronso's turn to laugh. “And how bad would that be compared to the state you are in already? At least this way you can finally see an end to your suffering. The power contained within this stone comes directly from Shinzan. Yes, it will connect you to him so that you may carry out his will. But it is not infinite. Once the power is spent…you will die.”

  This time, the general's words appeared to make an impact. Garnak closed his eyes and his voice softened almost to a dreamy, faraway quality. “To die. To at last be at peace. To feel my spirit fly free to seek an everlasting ocean of oblivion.”

  After several minutes of deep contemplation, his eyes cracked open just enough to see Hronso still holding the stone. “Very well. Shinzan has won. After so many years of existing in this hell, death is an offer that cannot be refused. Do what you must. I am his to command.”

  Hronso nodded. “It was an inevitable choice.” He drew his dagger and approached the dragon. “Once it is done, it will take some time for you to regain your strength.”

  “Time is all I have, elf.”

  Hronso growled inwardly. He was finding Garnak's repeated referrals to him being an elf more than a touch irritating; it had been a very long time since he'd had the right to call himself by that title. But he knew that the dragon was only doing this to strike back at him. The fact that Hronso was a slave of Shinzan was sufficient in itself to inspire hatred. This would be a tumultuous journey for both of them. Two creatures - each filled with hate for one another, for themselves, and most of all for their master - set a task to end everything they had once loved.

  He placed the tip of the dagger against the left side of Garnak’s neck. The flesh yielded easily as he made a four inch cut. Only a few small drops of blood issued forth. Then, with the tip of his finger, he peeled back the flesh.

  “Prepare yourself,” he warned.

  “Just get on with it,” Garnak demanded.

  Hronso pushed the crystal home, forcing it deep within the dragon’s soft tissue.

  The effect was instantaneous. Garnak's enfeebled body burst to life. Thrashing wildly, his huge head slammed into Hronso, sending him flying across the entire breadth of the cavern and thudding into the far jagged wall. The dragon's deafening roars of agony and accompanying blasts of flame shook loose large chunks of the ceiling. As these came crashing down, a six inch wide fissure split the floor completely in two.

  Badly stunned, Hronso remained where he had fallen as Garnak continued to writhe and roar for another half an hour. Then he became still. The transformation was complete. His scales were no longer sickly and grey, but as brilliant as polished silver. Once again he was a young dragon – strong and ferocious.

  At last, the general struggled to his feet. “Can you hear me, dragon?”

  The only reply he received was a low growl. The spells had been lifted, and Garnak would speak no more.

  Hronso could hear his master laughing softly in his mind. He was pleased. Without doubt it would take time for the creature to fully absorb Shinzan’s power. But once it did, the results would be devastating.

  Lumnia would know terror such as had not been seen since the fall of the Five Kingdoms.

  Chapter One

  King Ganix could feel his nerves beginning to fray as they penetrated the fog surrounding Borgen. This was sure to be a difficult meeting. Bringing humans to their island was one thing. But to bring an elf…

  He turned his attention to Keira, who was calmly pulling the oars of their small boat. She seemed completely unconcerned about the situation.

  She regarded the king and laughed softly. “Are you afraid that your people will harm me?”

  Ganix was taken slightly aback. He had not voiced his concerns to her. Though, as they had traveled, he had found Keira to be quite perceptive. “No. I doubt that,” he responded. “But it will certainly be an uncomfortable introduction.”

  “You are their king, are you not?”

  “I am,” he affirmed. “But I must take the feelings and fears of those I rule into consideration. There has been no contact between our people for hundreds of years. And even then it was not a pleasant encounter.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “Would you have me wait for you out of sight?”

  Ganix had actually given this some serious thought, but rejected the idea on principle. “No. If we are to have a peace between us, such meetings are inevitable. The problem here is that this is a secret place. Even most dwarves do not know of its existence.”

  Keira shook her head and smiled. “Borgen is not a secret. At least, not from my people. We’ve known of it ever since it was first built.”

  “How is that so?”

  “Borgen was a dwarf stronghold for a very long time,” she explained. “I don’t know much of your history, but I know that my people feared it.”

  “Why would they fear Borgen?”

  “It was a place of great and terrible power,” she replied. “Or at least, that’s what is said. It was a home to machines of fire and steel. Your kind slaughtered many elves with the craft born from here.”

  Ganix was unsure how to respond. He had no doubt that she was probably right. His ancestors would have surely used Borgen as a base of operations. And now his own people were attempting to resurrect the very machines that had been employed to kill countless numbers of elves.

  Keira sensed his apprehension. “It is the distant past,” she added. “I do not hold you responsible for things in which you played no part. And whatever you fear I will witness while visiting here, rest assured that I will be unmoved. I care nothing for your tinkering. With the current state of your people, you will likely do yourselves far more harm than anything you might inflict on the elves.”

  Ganix bristled at this unintended insult. “I’ll have you know that we have come quite far in our attempts to revive the crafts of our ancestors.”

  Keira cocked her head. “Truly? Then I am anxious to see what you have accomplished. We had assumed that your decline was absolute.”

  Ganix sniffed. “Our decline, as you put it, has been anything but.”

  As the fog lifted and they passed through the cloak hiding the island from sight, Ganix couldn't help but notice how unimpressed Keira remained. In fact, she looked as if she had actually been expecting Borgen to suddenly appear. This time, however, he kept his thoughts to himself and merely directed her to steer their vessel to the southern tip of the island.

  On drawing closer to the coast, Ganix spotted the wreckage from a sailing craft protruding from the water. At once, fear gripped him. Someone had found Borgen. But who?

  Keira noticed as well. “I will see who sailed it,” she said. Without awaiting a reply, she stood up and dived cleanly into the ocean, leaving Ganix staring after her.

  Within seconds she had vanished into the depths. Ganix could only wait and hope that she returned safely. Explaining her death would not be an easy task. Particularly considering that her father was the elf leader.

  Three nail-biting minutes passed before her head broke the surface. After letting out a loud gasp, she climbed nimbly back into the boat. />
  “It is an Imperial ship,” she announced between gulps of air. “It would seem that Borgen is no longer a secret after all.”

  The moment the bottom of their boat scraped the shore, Ganix leapt out and drew a dwarf rod from his belt.

  “Calm yourself, Your Highness,” Keira told him. “You won’t learn what has happened if you are dead.” She pointed to an outcropping of rock straight ahead. “Four men are just on the other side.”

  At once Ganix crouched low, his grip on the rod so tight that his knuckles cracked. “Soldiers?”

  Keira shrugged. “Perhaps. But don’t worry. They don’t know we’re here. From what I can tell they’ve been abandoned and are completely alone.”

  “How do you know this?”

  She smiled and touched her right ear. “Humans are quite loud. Almost as loud as dwarves.”

  Ganix strained to hear the concealed men, but the only sounds that came to him were the crashing of the waves and the cries of the tree manlilu.

  “Don’t bother,” she said. “My senses are far superior. Just trust me when I say they are there. But I would know what you would have us do? Will you allow them to live?”

  Ganix thought on this for a moment. “No. But I do have questions that need answering.”

  “Then you should wait here,” she told him. “I cannot protect you and restrain all four humans at the same time.”

  “I only need one alive,” he said. “I can help you deal with the others.” He tapped the rod with his finger.

  Keira paused, then nodded sharply. “As you wish.” She drew a long dagger from her belt and started off toward the rocks.

  Ganix followed her as quietly as possible. He couldn't help but admire the way the elf woman moved – barely leaving an impression in the sand as she took her silent steps. Her motions were graceful and fluid. And yet she radiated an inner strength that seemed as if she was filled with the very power of Lumnia itself. It was like she had been created from magic.

  Now closer, Ganix could hear the humans talking in hushed whispers, though he couldn’t yet make out what they were saying. The rocks were roughly fifty feet from the shore line on one side, and an equal distance from the trees on the other. Keira caught Ganix's eye and pointed him to the right, then crept off to the left. Ganix did as instructed, rounding the right hand side of the rocks with his rod at the ready. Just before the humans came into view, he could at last hear their conversation clearly. He paused to listen. Keira, seeing this, halted as well.