Key of Living Fire (The Sword of the Dragon) (2 page)

PRELUDE: PENETRATING THE SHIELD OF PURITY

T
he albino dragon stepped away from the ancient iron pedestal and gazed at its simple yet elegant design. Against the darkness of his surroundings the pedestal glowed with clear, vibrant light emanating from the dome of energy sizzling over its surface.

On the pedestal and enclosed beneath the energy dome hovered a large shiny gold key with the miniature figure of a dragon wrapped around its oval handle. Flames were spewing from the dragon’s mouth and entwining themselves around the key’s bar, and the gold appeared to burn with fire. The end of the key was composed of various prongs, evidently used to open some kind of lock.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?”

Albino turned his bony white head to look down at his bearded white-haired friend. “Then this is it: the Key of Living Fire?”

“Yes. This is it.” Patient held his shepherd’s staff with both wrinkled hands and leaned on it as he scrutinized the key with narrowed eyes. “Good,” he murmured. “Very good. It is safe.”

“Did you expect anyone else to find this place?” The dragon growled. “It is buried from the world, and only you and I know of its existence.”

Patient chuckled. “One can never be certain that a secret like this will be kept safe. And this is one secret that, I daresay, any dark wizard would give anything to know. But the battle that was waged in this place was like no other, and the collisions of demonic power with that of the powers granted by God opened many portals out of this realm. I feared that someone would have discovered one of those portals by now.”

“It has been long ages since this realm was hidden from the world, Patient. If none have entered, it is likely that none will.” Something crunched under his rear foot as he shifted it, and he spun around.

“Ah—see? It is as I feared.” Patient walked over to the skeletal remains of a man and pulled the now-crushed helmet off the skull and examined it. “Strange—I am not familiar with this design—it encased this man’s entire head.” He held it up for the dragon to see. “Are you?”

Albino shook his head and tapped the cracked oval window in the helmet’s face. “It seems you were right; others have found this place. We must act now, before our enemies learn of the key.”

“Right you are!” Patient threw down the helmet and walked up the stone steps that led to the pedestal. The energy dome sparked as he approached and stretched his hand toward it. “The Shield of Purity was put here as a safeguard against any who serve darkness,” he said as his fingers pierced the dome. “Only those whose motives are right and proper and those whose hearts are pure can ever penetrate it.”

“What of those whose hearts are not pure?”

The shepherd laughed and pointed at the skeletal remains.

Albino clamped the claws of his left hind leg over the bones. So this was the end result of an unworthy soul touching that which should remain in its place. How many? he wondered. How many had touched this ancient shield and died? He threw the bones into the surrounding blackness. “I see. Very effective.”

“Quite!” Patient’s fingers preceded his hand through the energy dome and closed around the gold key. The miniature dragon spurted more flames as if fighting against him, but Patient drew it out and held it up. His gaze never left it.

Flames grew in the darkness, and the light of several thousand towering torches illuminated the ancient stone columns of a ruined city, stretching for as far as he could see. Broken pottery lay scattered in the abandoned streets, and enormous stones, dislodged from crumbling buildings, peppered the ground. The buildings’ proportions indicated human architecture, and he envisioned for a moment what the city had been like in its prime.

One structure alone had stood the test of time. Before him, beyond the pedestal, rose a cathedral. Its spiked spires disappeared into the darkness far above him, and its marble walls stood strong. An aura of dim energy surrounded it, and he knew that the thing for which he had come was close at hand.

Patient glanced up at the cathedral’s spires, the key still held in his left hand. “You understand, my friend,” he said, “that this power once destroyed an entire civilization?”

Albino grasped the edge of the stone steps leading to the cathedral and pulled himself up, carefully avoiding the pedestal. “It was you who suggested this, Patient. Not I!”

“Still, it is you who wants it now.”

“Yes.” The dragon craned his neck to look up, then averted his eyes in disgust. “If it can be used again to avert the death of the innocent, then I am willing.”

The shepherd looked up again. “You don’t fear what sleeps there, do you?”

“Not for myself. But for my children? Yes!” He growled and nodded at the cathedral. “If you will not let me face him, then let us proceed.”

“As you wish.” Patient preceded him to the cathedral’s double doors, his staff tapping lightly against the stone floor and his robes trailing behind him. Engraved in ivory upon the doors was the figure of a snarling white dragon with amethyst eyes.

Inserting the flaming key, Patient gave the doors a push and they opened inward (with a growl that sounded very much like a dragon). They entered a room several times higher than its width. Ivory and black tiles checkered the floor, a stained-glass window depicting the white dragon filled a portion of the back wall, and jewel-like stones hung from the broad rafters. The stones gave off a steady soft light.

“We have come to it,” Patient said, holding up his staff and coming to an abrupt halt. “The Hold wherein we will find the Living Fire.”

Albino checked his surroundings for an indication of where the Hold was. He felt confused. “Do you mean that this—this cathedral is the Hold? I thought you said that no one can step into it.”

But the shepherd thrust out the key and turned it in the air.
Click!
Then the floor trembled and rose beneath them, raising them far above to a platform that had been invisible from the ground level. “Hurry! Get on the platform before the floor recedes.”

Following Patient’s advice, Albino jumped forward just as the stones on which he had been standing dropped hazardously out of reach. He found himself standing opposite a wooden door about eight feet high and five feet wide. A heavy iron chain stretched across it, and an inordinately fat padlock had been fastened to it.

Patient held out his staff. “Hold this for me.”

Taking the wooden stick in his claws, Albino held it gingerly. “I don’t know why you bring this thing with you. It only gets in your way.”

The shepherd chuckled. “My friend, if you were human, then you would understand that age has a way of catching up with you, and that a staff can be more than a little helpful at times.” He grabbed the padlock and rattled the chains. “Hold on!” Turning the key in the padlock, he dropped the chains and the wood door swung outward.

A whoosh of hot air forced Albino to close his eyes for a moment. He dug his claws into the platform as some kind of force tried to push him off.

“Stop,” he heard the shepherd say. “Enough!”

The storm passed, and Albino opened his eyes and relaxed his muscles. Before him lay a chamber ablaze with fierce flames. Patient stood before it and reached back even as Albino held out his staff.

“The powers of a penitent prophet never die,” Patient said as he took a step toward the Hold. “They live on without him and, yet, bound to him. Once given up they yearn to return to their master, but they are not allowed to do so. Today I have come to close off this danger to the world, this threat to mankind’s existence:

“A power of evil rises from the ashes of his master’s doom, a threat upon the world grows in strength. He gathers the corrupted and the evil to himself, preparing for a war upon Subterran that will subject it under him. To what will men turn when this evil threatens their existence? Do they have a champion, a man who can match the evil brought against him?

“I see the youngest daughter of the great white dragon, pure and beautiful, won by a man of her choosing. She gives her life and brings a child into the world. A child of hope, an offspring of the dragon. But the enemy seeks out the offspring and draws near to snuff out her flame.

“Will none go to her aid? Will all stand and watch as she is destroyed?

“I see a sword blazing in the hands of her deliverer! Fierce and glorious, he stands between her and death. The sword given to men by the dragon prophet is in his hands. Lo! It has the Living Fire—the powers held from time long past. It is he, the son of the traitor.

“Take now the weapon and arm the deliverer!”

Albino beheld a mighty sword rise from the midst of the Hold. Its blade was long and elegant, double-edged. Its steel mirrored everything without flaw, and flames entwined themselves around the blade, wreathing it in red and yellow fire. The sword’s guard was semitransparent, like crystal, and a gold vine wrapped it and passed below to the handle, reinforcing the leather gripping.

Patient slid his hand over the sword’s pommel and curled his fingers around its handle, then drew it out, stepped back, and watched the heavy wooden door close. The chains tangled themselves across the door, and the padlock fitted itself into their links before snapping shut.

“Take this!” Patient tossed him the sword. “The prophecy was meant for you, and the sword is yours to give to whomever you choose.”

Catching the sword in one hand, Albino waited for the cathe
dral’s floor to return for them. As the tiles rose next to the platform, he leaped onto it and it began to descend, leaving Patient behind. Spreading his leathery wings, Albino shot up and past his friend, curling his tail around Patient’s torso and flinging him onto his back.

“It is time to depart, my friend.”

He streaked downward, pulled his head back, and landed in front of the entry doors. Patient dismounted and opened the doors. As he did so, they saw a swirl of light and a portal opened before them.

“Our way home!” Albino roared victory, but he had turned his face upward again. There, hovering in the air around the citadel spires, was a host of human figures wrapped in dark veils, silent and unmov
ing. In their midst was a body dwarfing all others, its spiked tail wrapped around its shiny black-scaled body. “Valorian!” he growled.

Patient slapped him across the head with his shepherd’s staff. “Leave him be! We’re getting out of here.”

The portal grew in size and prepared to swallow them, and at that moment Albino heard the faint tinkle of metal as the key slipped through Patient’s fingers and fell to the stone floor. He grabbed for it but missed. The key vanished and reappeared inside the energy dome atop the pedestal. “No!”

A whirlwind of color caught him up. He felt his surroundings disappear and saw the light of day fill the darkness. Moments later he found himself standing outside an ancient ruin deep in the forest. The portal vanished behind him, and Patient stood next to him.

“Do not worry,” the shepherd said. “The sword is what we really came for. It is the key to the future, and the Shield of Purity will pre
vent anyone else from obtaining the key.”

“And what if someone else manages to get past that shield?” Albino growled and looked at the spot where the portal had been.

Patient furrowed his brow. “If someone managed to get past the shield”—he glanced at the sword—“then that weapon would become as any other sword, and its bearer would be left vulnerable.”