Tales from the New Earth: Volume Two Page 36

Simon grimaced and folded his hands on his lap.

  “Not exactly a reputation I care about.”

  “Nor should you. Now I suppose you must decide whether you wish to aid him or not.”

  “It's suicide either way, don't you think?”

  Esmiralla tilted her head to the side slightly and her remarkable eyes widened.

  “Is it? You can't know that. Right now, the queen is enraged by her offspring's actions. She knows that he plans to lock her away again and is focused on that. And Pyrathius is equally engaged in his clash with his mother. You and your people are, for the moment, safe from both of them. This war between them could go on for years, no matter how badly the gods of Chaos would like a swift end to the conflict. In the end, neither of them gives a damn about the gods and they never did.”

  “But what does that matter?” Simon asked her plaintively. “One of them will win in the end and then we're doomed, aren't we?”

  “Are you? Young man, as I sit here speaking with you, I can feel the power flowing from you like pulses of light. You are infused with more magic than any human that I have ever known, and I knew wizards of legend from the recesses of time who strode across this world like gods. And your power is only increasing. I do not know what the lords of Light have done to you, but your potential is limitless. If the queen and the primal red dragon give you the time, you may well be able to deal with the winner of their war. Perhaps.”

  Simon stared down at his delicate hands; long, slim, agile but weak, and laughed to himself.

  “I wouldn't presume to argue with you, but I find that hard to accept.”

  “Yes, I know. And that may be why the gods saw fit to gift you with that much power.”

  Simon looked at her curiously and she seemed amused.

  “You simply do not have the temperament to become a tyrant. Give a small-minded human some power and the results are almost always tragic. You are one of the most self-deprecating, gentle souls that I have ever met. And before you say anything, that is a good thing, not a weakness. You will never try to rule over others because you have no interest in such a thing. Is that not so?”

  “Of course I don't want to rule! Why would I? I have enough problems dealing with my own day to day life without sticking my nose into anyone else's.”

  “Precisely. And so you have been allowed to tap into the deepest magic. Accept that and you may find that even the primal red dragon cannot stand against you.”

  “And the queen?”

  “Ah yes, the queen.”

  Esmiralla made a gesture and a globe of silver appeared between them, floating above the table.

  “Have you seen her?”

  “Seen her? Of course not. No one knows where she is.”

  “I do,” Esmiralla said simply. “The silver dragons always had that ability, to sense other dragons. It was one of the things that made us so hated by the evil brood. We could target them, you see, and send attackers against them. Look now and see what Pyrathius fears so much.”

  Simon leaned forward as the globe expanded until it filled his vision.

  He was looking down at a desert. Sand dunes, blowing winds and searing bright sunlight made up a scene of desolation.

  “Where is this?” he wondered aloud.

  “In your old world, it was called the Sahara, I believe,” Esmiralla's disembodied voice told him. “One of the driest places on this planet.”

  “And what am I supposed to see?”

  “Patience. Wait and watch.”

  Simon looked around the empty landscape but the sand dunes stretched all the way to the colorless horizon and nothing disturbed the alien look of the place.

  One of the dunes started to shiver and an avalanche of yellow sand began to sift down the sides. The quivering extended to another dune and then another. A rumble filtered up through the bone-dry air and Simon watched in awe as it seemed the entire desert was now shaking and convulsing.

  “Earthquake?” he gasped.

  “Not exactly.”

  For hundreds of feet in all directions, the sand began to spin slowly in a clockwise direction. The motion became faster and then faster still, until the surface of the desert resembled a maelstrom at sea. A funnel of sand shot straight up and the noise was deafening.

  And inside this funnel, more yellow than the pale sand around it, was a snake-like figure that spun and twisted and writhed at incredible speed.

  “What the hell is that?”

  Esmiralla didn't answer.

  Slowly the tornado of sand and grit began to dissipate and collapse in upon itself. But the enormous writhing yellow snake continued to spin and spin, undulating on top of the dunes and cutting deep ditches in the soft ground with its body. It was a mad show of mindless speed which seemed to have no purpose.

  Simon had no point of reference. He couldn't tell how large the creature was.

  “Is that the queen?” he whispered.

  “It is. No need to lower your voice. She cannot hear you.”

  The creature suddenly stopped, slipping and slithering on the sand. It coiled itself around and around like a monstrous snake and glared as if sensing their presence.

  “Oh wow,” Simon said as he got a good look at the dragon queen.

  She was yellow, yes, but her scales were slightly reflective like metal so that she seemed to be made of dull brass or gold. He couldn't tell how big she was against the featureless sand, but he guessed that she was immense. From the tip of her snout all the way to the end of her serpentine body, a row of long spikes ran down her length like a bizarre mohawk. The spikes were wickedly pointed and looked wet.

  “Poison,” the silver dragon said as if she could read his mind. “Those points are hollow and exude a virulent toxin that is fatal to anything it touches.”

  Her snout was elongated and pointed, and twisted horns grew up from just over her eyes and slanted backwards. One was snapped off halfway down its length.

  She extended her head skyward on top of her coils and bellowed at the empty heavens. Rows of blackened fangs filled her mouth and her eyes, not yellow but as red as fresh blood, glared around with a mad glint in them.

  “She looks...crazed,” Simon said hesitantly.

  “She is more than crazed, young one. She is quite mad. The queen was created for one purpose by the lords of Chaos; to lay eggs. The gods wanted the five primals as servants and eggs to replace any lesser dragons that fell to battle or misfortune. But once that was achieved, the queen was only needed as a conduit for their orders. She did not need to be intelligent or even coherent. She only needed to be alive and under control. Well, she developed a kind of crazed intellect in her endless captivity; a mad blood-lust and hatred for every living thing, including her own children. She will destroy this world to try to ease her own pain, Simon. That is what Pyrathius fears. That is why he wants to stop her.”

  “She has no wings.”

  “Of course not. She didn't need to fly as long as her children could. The Chaos lords only gave her what she needed to procreate and nothing more.”

  “My God, they're vicious.”

  “That is an understatement.”

  The dragon queen seemed to lose interest in whatever she might have sensed. She uncoiled her body and began to undulate away across the dunes leaving a glistening trail of poison behind her like some monstrous snail.

  “How big is she? I can't really tell.”

  “She could coil around that castle your friends live in, the one they call Nottinghill, at least twice.”

  “Yikes,” Simon said. “That's crazy.”

  “Yes. Well, we've seen all we need to see for now.”

  The view fogged over and then the globe faded out of sight and was gone.

  Simon sat back in his chair and met Esmiralla's eyes.

  “And that was the dragon queen,” she told him. “If you survive a battle with the primal red dragon, assuming that you decide to fight him, you will have to destroy her. And good luck with that.”

/>   “That isn't very encouraging, you know,” he told her.

  The woman smiled faintly.

  “I don't believe in giving anyone false hope. It serves no purpose.”

  Simon was sure that the low table between the two chairs had been empty, but now a delicate green bottle sat there with two crystal glasses. Esmiralla leaned forward, poured a sparkling liquid into both and offered him one.

  “Have some refreshment, young one,” she said graciously.

  He sniffed the liquor suspiciously and the woman's expression became cool.

  “If I wished to kill you, child, I would not stoop to poison.”

  Simon reddened and hastened to taste his drink. Whatever the liquid was, it was mild and sweet and seemed to sharpen his mind and refresh him at the same time.

  “Delicious. Thank you.”

  Esmiralla sipped her wine and smiled in a more friendly manner.

  “You are welcome. Now, I have shown you what you will face in the future, but the queen is far away and poses no threat to you and yours at the moment. So what are your plans now? Will you join with Pyrathius or attack him.”

  After another sip, Simon put down his glass and sat back with a heavy sigh. He rubbed the back of his neck and tried to loosen his tense muscles. And he thought about his answer for a few minutes.

  “That depends,” he told her finally.

  “On what?”

  “On whether we can count on your support. If my allies and I are to have any chance against the primal, we'll need your help.”

  “Ah, I see.”

  Esmiralla stood up. Her dress rustled as she moved and her footsteps echoed across the vast cavern.

  She walked away several steps and then turned to look coolly at the wizard.

  “That is a bold request, don't you think?” she asked Simon. “You know nothing about me except that I am a dragon. And you have killed your fair share of my kind over the last few years, have you not? Isn't it presumptuous of you to ask for my aid?”

  Simon stood up as well. It didn't feel right to sit while the woman was standing and looking down at him. She was taller than he had realized and it felt like she was towering above him.

  “If it is, then I apologize,” he told her as he picked up his staff. “But I'm guessing that you contacted me for a reason. I believe the reason is that you are sick of sitting on the sidelines,” he looked up at the distant ceiling, “huddled in this place away from the action. This is end game for the human race and if you did want to get involved, this is your last chance. The question is, do you?”

  Esmiralla clenched her fists at her side and locked her gaze on his. Simon felt a sense of menace gather around him like a cloud and he tightened his grip on his staff. The woman took a single step forward and the cavern echoed like the inside of a drum.

  “That was quite a long walk,” Aeris said as Simon approached the front gate. The elemental was bobbing up and down in the afternoon breeze at the center of the opening. Kronk was standing nearby and waved happily.

  “Welcome back, master,” he cried.

  “Thanks Kronk. Yeah, I guess it was, wasn't it? I had a lot to think about. How is everything here? All quiet?”

  “Fine, fine. No change,” Aeris told him.

  The two elementals followed the wizard through the gate and they hurried to close and lock it before Simon could.

  “Oh, thanks guys. Let's go inside, shall we? My feet are sore and I want to sit down.”

  “I'll build up the fire, master,” Kronk told him and hurried ahead.

  “And I will put on the kettle. Tea or coffee?” Aeris asked.

  “Coffee please. Now that we have milk, I'm looking forward to a cup.”

  “Coffee it is,” the air elemental said and zipped off.

  Simon stopped and turned to look up at the walls. Everything looked normal and he took a moment to compose himself. His little friends hadn't noticed how badly his hands were shaking or the scratches on his arms and he didn't want to have to explain himself. At least not yet.

  He examined Mortis de Draconis and cursed under his breath. The staff had streaks of blood along its shaft and he knelt down, tore up a handful of grass and rubbed the stains off quickly.

  A furtive glance around showed him that none of the patrolling earthen had seen him and Simon headed indoors before his wobbly legs collapsed under him. Or before he thought too much about what he'd done. It would come back to haunt him soon enough.

  Chapter 27

  Simon had never been to Japan back in the old days of technology but he'd always wanted to visit. Being in hi-tech, he'd met several amazing Japanese developers during his career and a couple had extended a standing invitation for him to visit them if he ever decided to travel to their country.

  If only they could see me now, he thought as he stared upward at the summit looming several miles ahead of him.

  The wizard was standing on the lower slopes of a volcano; a rumbling, smoking, terrifying volcano.

  “What is this thing called?” Aeris asked. He was hovering next to Simon.

  “Sakurajima. At least that's what my atlas has it listed as. One of the Earth's most active, apparently.”

  “Looks bloody active to me,” Tamara grumbled from behind them.

  Simon turned to look down at her and Sebastian. The mages were carefully making their way up the slope with Tamara in the lead. They had hitched up their robes so that the cloth didn't get snagged on the jagged rocks and Simon was quick to cover his mouth to hide his smile at the sight. Tamara was already in a foul mood.

  But where she was scowling and already had a smudge of dirt on her cheek, her brother grinned and winked at Simon, apparently in very high spirits. The two weeks of recovery time that he'd had since his imprisonment by the goblins had done wonders for Sebastian and he was his old self again.

  “And it's damned hot,” Tamara added petulantly. “I didn't know that Japan was this hot.”

  “I'm guessing that it's more the fault of the volcano than the weather,” Malcolm called up from further down the path. “And I don't know what you're complaining about,” he said to the mage. “Try climbing this thing in armor and see how hot you get.”

  “So take the armor off,” she snapped back at him.

  The big man just rolled his eyes and wisely held his tongue. Aiden, directly behind him, nodded once in approval.

  They were ascending the southern slope of Sakurajima. Fortunately an old trail looped back and forth and they were following it. The climb was slow, not because the volcano was very steep but because the trail was blocked with humps of solidified lava and loose stone strewn everywhere by previous eruptions.

  Simon was grateful for his staff and used it to help push himself along. Kronk was a dozen yards ahead, picking out the easiest parts of the trail for the group to follow and removing the largest of the blockages.

  “Aeris, do me a favor and see how Ethmira and her archers are doing, would you?”

  “Certainly. Any message for her?”

  “Yeah. Tell her to stay hidden for as long as possible. After that flight of dragons we saw earlier, I have no doubt that Pyrathius knows we're here but he can't sense the elves and I'd rather save them as a surprise if we can.”

  “Got it. I'll be back soon,” Aeris told him and shot off to the northeast, fading as he went.

  “Where's he off to?” Tamara asked as she caught up to Simon.

  “Ethmira. I want her and her people to stay out of sight until we attack. Their arrows can penetrate dragon-hide, but they won't do any good if the archers are incinerated before they get a chance to use them.”

  “Good point.”

  The mage used a sleeve to wipe the sweat off of her face and touched the wand on her belt.

  “By the way, I wanted to thank you again for this. My spells are so much more powerful now. I can certainly understand why you use a staff to channel your powers.”

  Simon just shrugged.

  “Don't thank me.
It was Esmiralla's idea. She mentioned that I should take you and your brother back to that cache in Russia to see if either of you could use the wand. You're the one who lucked out, that's all.”

  He lowered his voice and glanced down at Sebastian, who had stopped to chat with Keiko. The small woman was walking in the middle of the group between Bastian and Malcolm and seemed even tinier out in the open.

  “Is your brother okay with it? I mean, the wand didn't work for him, did it? That might make me a little angry.”

  Tamara looked back at Sebastian and smiled affectionately.

  “He just isn't like that, Simon. He doesn't have a mean bone in his body.” Her smile twisted. “Apparently I got them all. So no, he's not feeling resentful or whatever. Both of us are just grateful to have another weapon to use against the primal.”

  Tamara watched her brother and the diminutive mage speaking with each other. She seemed pleased at the sight.

  “And he did get that talisman from the cache. His Shield spell is almost impenetrable now, which eases my mind a bit. So it's all good. I hope it helps in the upcoming battle.” She looked at the wizard. “Are you feeling optimistic?”

  “If we follow the plan, I think we have a chance. And considering how powerful Pyrathius is, I guess that's the best we can hope for.”

  “Yeah, I guess.”

  They both rested for a moment and Simon looked at each of his companions to see how they were holding up.

  The mages were both wearing the usual robes but, unlike the plain brown one that the wizard had worn, Tamara had had a clever idea. She'd had a pair of robes made of camouflage material to blend in with the landscape. After initially finding their appearance hilarious, Simon decided that it had been a stroke of genius and had told them so. His compliment had improved Tamara's mood quite a bit.

  “Why's she so cranky?” he had asked Sebastian discreetly before they'd Gated to Japan that morning. “Usually she's excited about going into battle.”

  “Besides being afraid, you mean? Fear makes my sister angry at herself, just so you know. But she's also having,” Bastian had hesitated and lowered his voice even more, “women's issues, if you know what I mean? Um, cramps and stuff.”