The Black Keep (The Chronicles of Llars) (17 page)

What happened??

“Whip tail! Watch out for the whip tail!” shouted Kharrihan who was a blur of movement into the melee with the warves, slashing and stabbing with his rapier, expertly finding gaps in armor where the thin blade could penetrate and find the flesh beneath.

The buzzing intensified and the Wasp Dragon stopped its thrashing. Its malevolent bug-like eyes had adjusted to the light now, and it was calmly looking for something that it could eat. Carym knew his blunt weapons were going to be of no use now, so he put them away and used his Sigil power to call forth a sword of stone. With not a little surprise and thrill, a razor sharp sword formed from nothing in his open hand, alight with flames. Bolts of blue energy flew past both sides of Carym’s head and impacted the dragon in its chest, Gennevera’s spell forcing it back a few paces. Carym smiled, each of his companions were now engaged with a Warvish fighter; the group was sticking to the plan.

The dragon shook off the attack and came charging back towards Carym and Gennevera, its feet clacking loudly on stone and its wings buzzing horribly. Then to Carym’s horror, two long arms, each ending in a spear-like appendage, dropped from the underbelly of the beast and extended out before it. The Wasp Dragon struck forward with its spear-like appendages trying to impale Carym. He jumped quickly from one of the strikes but a second followed after, scoring a direct hit on Carym’s thigh and nearly penetrated his magical armor. It didn’t go through but he had trouble making his leg obey as he scrambled away, hoping to think up a new attack. It was then that he heard a gurgling noise over the chaos of ringing blades and painful yells. He found himself pinned to the wall. He was encased in a sticky web from head to foot and could not move. The flames from his sword had seared away the webs that touched the enchanted blade, but he could not move it enough to cut himself free.

The damned thing can spit webs like a spider!

Sensing a meal was now caught, the dragon slowly made its way closer to Carym. Its face came in close at the end of its long neck, its breath choking him and making him want to retch. He forced himself to remain calm as another barrage of magical bolts pounded the dragon back and away from Carym, but its whip tail came swinging around and slammed into the stone walls and floor, shattering stone, trying to kill him. Carym closed his eyes and called the Tides to him. Using the power of the Flame Sigil, he set all of his armor aflame and managed to burn off the webs that had imprisoned him; but the effort had seriously weakened him.

He fell hard to the floor gasping in pain. Gennevera now conjured a small ball of flame and threw it at the dragon, again the creature stumbled back. Sensing the woman was on to something, Carym picked up a chunk of stone from the broken wall and filled it with what little energy he had left. He threw it with all his might and using the power of the Earth Sigil he caused the stone to turn into a fiery ball of molten lava as it sailed through the air. The missile struck the dragon on the shoulder of one of its legs and spread out across the hard shell, searing a hole in the tough armor.

Another gurgle sounded and the great beast coughed out another web that shot itself at Gennevera, entangling her legs together but missing the rest of her body. The dragon shrieked wildly as she fell to the ground. Carym glanced quickly around to see how the others fared. Gefar was slumped in a corner, Carym hoped the man was not dead. Yag battled with a Warvish fighter, his scimitar singing as it struck the haft of the enemy’s great axe. Zach had finished off one of the warves and shocked Carym by jumping onto the dragon’s whipping tail.

There was no time to waste, not if he was going to save Gennevera from the beast. Realizing that he was a moving mountain of stone, Carym charged headlong at the dragon and plowed into its shoulder. He heard a satisfying crack as the rock hard carapace gave way to his magical armor of stone. In the excitement of the charge, Carym lost the magical sword he had called forth and just pummeled the dragon with all the strength he could muster. He marveled at how the magical armor enhanced his strength as he heard crack after crack with each punch he landed.

As the beast suffered under his powerful punches, he was struck with a thought. He was a legendary Fyrbold,
master of the Flame Sigil, facing a dragon and he had to pummel it with his fists? He was a bit chagrined that he couldn’t come up with something a bit more sophisticated.

The dragon struck him with its spear like appendage nearly impaling him. Another ball of flame sailed across the cavern and struck the beast on the chest causing it to scamper backwards, mandibles clacking angrily. Then he was falling into blackness.

“My last spell!” Carym vaguely heard Gennevera say. Fear forced him to his feet again, purely on instinct he caught one of the spear tipped arms of the dragon and with his enhanced strength he smashed it until it broke and he fell free. The dragon shrieked in pain and began spitting its vile acid everywhere, melting the rock and turning it into shiny glass.

Then Carym was struck by the other spear tipped appendage and this time the strike penetrated his armor piercing his arm. The Wasp Dragon let out a triumphant scream as it leaned its face in toward Carym and released a spray of acid. Carym cried out in pain. He was too weak to hold the armor spell and some of the acid penetrated, burning his skin horribly. Sheer pain and anger forced one last plan into Carym’s mind. He realized that Zach was atop the beast’s back and hacking away at its wings; the creature’s whip tail had been severed. Then the beast withdrew its spear from Carym’s arm and knocked Yag across the tunnel where he slumped to the ground, still. Kharrihan had taken a hammer from one of the warves and smashed the dragon’s other shoulder, a resounding crunch and a shriek from the dragon told Carym the elf had crippled the beast. With two broken front shoulder plates, the beast was forced to use its remaining spear tipped arm as a leg and began whipping its head about like a ram forcing the elf to retreat back to where Gennevera was webbed to the tunnel floor.

Unable to move, his magical armor gone, Carym lay vulnerably on the floor.
What was the great Fyrbold going to do now?
How could he stop this menace? Anger at his foolishness strengthened him and he called forth all the Tidal force he could handle. He constructed a Sigil that he hoped would provide the desired effect and shouted the command, releasing the spell. As he had hoped, a giant fist of pure Flame appeared in the air in front of the dragon and the beast howled in fear. Scampering backward on its three legs, the dragon tried to escape. Zach was still on its back. Having successfully maimed its wings, he crawled up and over its broken shoulders trying to reach the beast’s breathing vents, its weakness.

“Keep it up, Carym!” shouted Zach. “I’m almost there!”

Carym understood his friend’s plan, and for a moment cursed himself for forgetting the weakness that the elf had told them of. By Carym’s own will, and the power of the Sigil of Flames, he struck the dragon in the head with his giant fist. Stunned, the dragon reeled backward. The carapace covering its head had cracked, one of its many eyes had been singed and melted. The beast screamed again and spit acid at the fire-hand in a futile attempt to ward off another attack. Carym struck again and again. Finally he willed the fist to grab the neck of the dragon. With his magic weakening it was all he could do to force the neck of the creature down to the floor of the tunnel, its body swinging wildly. But that was the opening that Zach needed. As the beast’s head was forced down, Zach slid down with it and began stabbing its breathing holes. Every strike forced a wail from the beast, but each wail was weaker than the last until finally it stopped and nothing but the smell of melted carapace filled the air.

Carym’s magic dissipated, all was quiet in the tunnel. And Carym passed into unconsciousness.

Carym was awakened from a dreamy sleep by soft hands and a gentle voice whispering his name. He hadn’t even realized he had fallen asleep. The events of the day came rushing back to him and he struggled to rise.

“Easy, Carym,” he opened his eyes and was staring into the face of the woman he had become so fond of. He heaved a sigh of relief that she was ok and fought back a tremendous feeling of guilt that she had had to take part in the fighting. All of these people were at risk because of him. Because Umber would not relent until Carym was captured or dead. He shook his head and realized that it hurt, badly.

“We have to move,” he grumbled.

“I think we are ok for the moment, Carym,” said the elf, Kharrihan. “All of the warves are dead, and so is the dragon thanks to you and Zach. I’ve done some scouting and it doesn’t appear that there are any other patrols nearby.”

Zach!
Carym looked around for his old friend, relieved to see him sitting quietly nearby, inspecting his dagger. “I’m glad you’re ok, Zach.”

Zach turned his head and nodded at Carym, then went back to inspecting his dagger. Carym struggled to his feet. “The box,” he croaked.

Kharrihan looked at him oddly. Gennevera understood and helped Carym remove the device from his coat. She set the box carefully on the ground and stepped away from it.

“What is that?” asked Kharrihan, eying the ancient designs.

“It is a multidimensional device. Inside it is the size of a castle with rooms and passages hidden everywhere, although at first it seemed to be no bigger than a small cottage.”

“A small cottage?” he asked, skeptically.

“Aye,” Carym said with a shrug. “How much time do we have, Kharr?”

“Probably five to six hours before this patrol is reported missing.”

Carym nodded. That would be enough time. “Where is Yag? And Gefar?” he asked with a pang of guilt, remembering seeing both men slumped on the ground during the fight. He cursed himself for not thinking of them sooner.

“A little bruised, am I,” said Yag. “But none the worse for wear. Gefar was hit with the poison sting of that dragon, but Gennevera’s healing spells seem to have slowed the poison down.”

“He needs rest, Carym. So do you,” she said, pointedly looking at the box.

“What is it you intend?” asked Kharrihan.

“Time passes differently inside the device, Kharr. Out here you may think only minutes have passed, but inside it will have felt like hours. It also possesses the magic of healing when the need is great.”

“Well, you are full of surprises, aren’t you?” laughed the elf, shaking his head ruefully. “First you turn yourself into a heaving rock troll, then a giant fist of fire appears in the air and smashes our dragon into pieces! Now you are going to teleport yourself into a box the size of an orok’s foot!” Kharr laughed out loud.

“Aye,” Carym smiled. “When you put it that way, it does sound a bit preposterous. Eh?”

“Aye. You are going to make for a fine adventuring companion, friend!”

“Companion? Won’t you need to return to your people?”

“Nay, Sir Fyrbold. My queen, the Zhuan, has directed me to accompany you as far as you see fit. I am in your service, sir.”

Carym smiled and thanked the man. He would be grateful to have such a skilled guide and scout with him.

“We shall guard your rest, friend. Your need is great.”

Gennevera and Yag helped Gefar hobble to Carym’s side and the two men supported each other. Gennevera held Carym’s hand while he leaned down and placed the stone into the slot. As their surroundings started to fade, Carym caught a shocked look on Zach’s face and chuckled at his friend’s expense.

Once inside the common room of the device, Gennevera helped Gefar into the bedchamber and laid him down to rest. Carym staggered to the couch and lay down, nursing the pain in his pierced arm. Gennevera returned to the common room and sat on the floor next to Carym so that she could lay her head down on his chest.

He felt truly content. The woman whom he was beginning to love, and who clearly had feelings for him, had fought valiantly for him and now nuzzled him gently. A warmth spread throughout his body and soon he felt himself getting very sleepy. He wanted to talk to Gennevera, but he just couldn’t summon the strength. Somewhere in the recesses of his mind, he registered the soft sound of snoring and wondered if it was himself.

He awoke to what felt like hours later to find a cozy fire crackling in the hearth and Gennevera sitting by it, watching the flames dance. His body ached terribly, but his wounds had healed. He offered a silent prayer to Zuhr, offering his thanks, and asked for the strength needed to continue his journey.