Erik And The Dragon ( Book 4) (38 page)

Aparen thought it over silently.

“I know the hunger you have for power,” Dremathor said as his grin widened. The man leaned forward. “I know the ecstasy of feeding upon another’s energy. Don’t sit there and pretend you don’t want more.”

Aparen nodded. “Where will you send me?”

Dremathor slapped a hand to his knee. “I have friends far in the west that will teach you all you need to know. They are an interesting lot, but if you can get past the smell, they will grow on you.”

“The smell?” Aparen echoed questioningly.

“They’re satyrs,” Dremathor replied.

Aparen started to open his mouth but a blinding light made him flinch and hold his hands up over his face.
Air rushed around him, chilling his skin and causing goose pimples to appear. Then, as quickly as it appeared, the light was gone and he was sitting in the chair in a lush, green forest. He blinked a couple of times and saw that Dremathor was sitting a few feet in front of him.

“This is it,” Dremathor said. “My friend will be here soon to greet you. Treat him with respect, you may be powerful, but the satyrs are a savvy bunch, and wield powerful magic. If you anger them, I will not come back to rescue you.”

Aparen glanced around. “What about Silvi?”

Dremathor chuckled and clapped his hands. “She is on her way,” he promised. Then he shook his head and stood up. The chair disappeared behind him. He started to walk away and then held up his hand as if he had forgotten something and turned back to face Aparen. “Oh, and, in a while I may come
back and ask you for a favor. From one gentleman to another, I trust you will honor my request.” Before Aparen could say anything, Dremathor disappeared as he walked away. A sphere of golden light appeared to Aparen’s right, and then Silvi stood next to him, smiling widely as she placed her hand down on his shoulder.

“You came back for me,” she said.

Aparen nodded. Then he heard a strange instrument from some distance down the path in the forest. It was somewhat like a flute, but not quite as sharp. It was softer, and smoother. Around the bend in the path came a most unusual animal. It skipped along on two hooves that resembled the hind legs of a goat. The fur was brown and came up to the creature’s waist, where it changed to resemble that of a man’s torso. A thick patch of hair stretched across the belly and up over the chest, fanning out to touch cover the shoulders. A thick, red beard hung below the creature’s chin and its lips were pursed together as it blew into a set of wooden pipes the likes of which Aparen had not seen before. Long, pointy ears stuck out from the side of the satyr’s head and it stared at him with beady, brown eyes beneath a mat of reddish-brown hair that curled around a pair of stubby horns.

All at once it stopped skipping along the path and put its instrument down. “So, you are the one that Dremathor wants us to teach eh?”

Aparen looked up to Silvi and she shrugged back at him.

“Well, come on, we can’t very well stay out here in the forest. The prowlers will be along come nightfall. We should be back in Viverandon before then. Come on, up, let’s go.” It turned on its hooves and began skipping back down the path, playing its wooden pipes as it went.

Silvi nudged Aparen. “What should we do?” she asked.

Aparen rose out of the chair. No sooner had he done so than the thing vanished from behind him. He looked down to where the chair had been and then up to the creature disappearing back behind the trees. “We follow him,” he said decisively.

*****

Gilifan walked to the edge of the pit and looked down. His face soured and he turned away from the sight at the bottom. “When did this happen?” he asked.

“I called for you just as soon as I found out. The acolytes summoned the other elders, who had been out gathering firedrakes for an assault on Ten Forts.”

“Where were you?” Gilifan asked.

“I was also out in the valley,” Takala replied. “I was gathering some of the mercenaries we had hired.”

Gilifan nodded. He turned away from the pit and looked at the other elders of the order that stood nearby.

“What do we do now?” one of them asked.

Gilifan stood silently. He knew of the egg, but none of the others did. He turned to Takala and looked at the man for a moment. “Where do your loyalties lie, Takala?” he asked.

“You have the power to raise men from the dead,” Takala said quickly. “Couldn’t you raise the master back?”

Gilifan sighed. Even if he still had the amulet, raising a dragon was beyond his power. He would need the book for that. The only problem was, he needed a dragon to use the book.

“I knew this was a waste of time,” one of the elders spat. “I have been sitting here waiting for the master’s return for all of my life, only to have him come back just in time to die at the hands of one man! This is ridiculous.”

Gilifan reached up with his hand and a magical vice wrapped around the elder’s throat. “It was your job to secure the lair.”

“No,” the man sputtered as he wiggled against the unseen choke-hold. “We were out on the master’s errand. We weren’t here!”

Gilifan released his spell and the man fell back a couple of steps. “We go after the book,” he said definitively. “Our order still serves the same purpose.
”

“How will we use the book without Tu’luh?” the same elder asked.

“You let me worry about that,” Gilifan replied. He then turned back to Takala. “We will need strong warriors to accomplish our goal now. The orcs at Ten Forts will need our help.”

“Orcs won’t fight with us,” one of the other elders said. “Their witch hunters will come after us. That is why we hide here in Verishtahng. It is too dangerous even for the orcs to come at us here.”

Gilifan placed a hand on Takala’s shoulder. “I asked you before, but now I need a direct answer. Where do your loyalties lie?”

Takala met Gilifan’s eyes evenly and set his jaw. “Command me, Master Gilifan, and I will obey. I, and all other members of the Black Fang Council, will serve you as we did our master. I have lived long enough to know that there is still a chance for victory as long as we are strong.”

Gilifan nodded. “I was hoping you would say that.” The necromancer then turned and walked to the five elders. “Come here,” he instructed them. “Join hands with me, and I will show you the visions that Tu’luh showed me.”

The elders looked to each other nervously and then formed a circle, holding hands and then closed their eyes. Gilifan looked at each of them and then mentally called forth a spell to paralyze them. He sent it out in a wave through his hands. It coursed through each of the elders faster than the blink of an eye. Then he pulled himself free of the circle and turned back to Takala.

“To win this war, we will need to rebuild our order. I need men who are strong, and unwavering in their determination.” Gilifan held out his hand, indicating the five elders behind him, still frozen in place. “If you wish, you may consume their power, take it as a token of my appreciation for your loyalty, and a promise to reward you for future endeavors.”

Takala grinned evilly. “I think this new arrangement will work well.”

Gilifan started toward the exit. “I will cull the rest of the weak from my order, and then you and I will begin rebuilding. It will take some time, but we will come back stronger than before. Tu’luh may have died, but his legacy lives on.”

“Glory to the strong,” Takala said.

Gilifan stopped in his tracks and turned back. “Tomorrow, I will have a special errand for you, Takala. Do you know Salarion?”

“I know
of
her,” Takala replied.

Gilifan nodded. “I will send you out to find her. I wish to speak with her.” Takala nodded quietly, and Gilifan turned and left the chamber so Takala could enjoy his reward. There was much work to be done, but all was not lost for the Wyrms of Khaltoun.