Dragon Fire Episode 37

As he plunged towards the ground, Terrin closed his eyes, concentrating on the sound of the wind rushing around him. The air began to warm, and for a moment, Terrin’s descent slowed. Suddenly something struck him on the cheek. When his eyes popped open in surprise, he saw a rope whipping around near his face. He followed the end of the rope up to Atol’s wrist.

“Grab the rope, young prince.”

As soon as Terrin reached out and grasped the rope, Atol clicked his tongue and Idrian flew upward. The rope tightened and Terrin’s hand slipped a bit as he flew through the air. When Atol saw the rope begin to smoke, he warned,

“Please calm your mind, young prince.”

Terrin again closed his eyes and listened to the whistle of the wind as it played with his hair.

“Young prince,” he heard Atol call.

When he opened his eyes, Terrin saw Atol reach down and grab one of his wrists, pulling him up onto Idrian’s back.

“Thank you,” Terrin said.

“I would not have caught you in time had you not slowed your descent,” Atol pointed out.

“I do not understand,” Terrin said.

With no word of explanation, Atol pointed toward the mountain, the home of the giant hornets.

“Whoever sent the creatures dwells in that mountain. It would be wise for us to find a way in.”

“I slowed my descent? What do you mean, Atol?” Terrin repeated.

As though he had not heard, Atol guided Idrian down to the ground and started searching the mountain for an opening.

“How could I slow my fall? That is not possible.”

“Not for a mortal man,” Atol said.

“I do not understand your words,” Terrin responded.

“There,” Atol said, pointing to a break in the rock.

Planks of weather-beaten wood framed the small opening and held two unlit lanterns.

Atol turned away from the opening and came alongside Idrian. Whispering to the great creature, he snapped his fingers and Olon leapt off Idrian’s back, diving into the ground.

“Idrian will circle above us as we make our way in. Olon will help us navigate the bowels of the mountain,” Atol said as he stepped into the opening.

Seeing the confusion in Terrin’s face, he said,

“I dare not offer much advice, young prince. I have looked into your past and seen what your future may be. This knowledge could lead you the wrong way. It is best for you to find your own path.”

Terrin hesitated, wondering at the meaning of Atol’s words.

But when he saw Atol disappear into the shadows, he hurried to follow.



*          *            *

Edron scrambled from his lookout and quickly fled to the heart of the mountain where Caleb and Nyriad waited. Caleb stood tall and as broad as a bear in the torchlight. Clothed in fur boots and pants, he rested Dreadfire, his enchanted war hammer, on his shoulder. The weapon’s weighted end was larger than Edron’s head, and its bone handle carried strange markings. Stories were told of how long ago, Dreadfire was forged by the master himself before he died and given to Caleb for safekeeping until he returned from the place of the dead.

The moment Edron had entered the chamber, his eyes had locked on Nyriad. With every move of her head, her long raven hair brushed across the small of her back. The sheerest of cloths covered her thighs, hips and chest, and on the pearl white flesh of her waist shone a flawless emerald. Mesmerized, Edron watched as she twisted and turned in a sensual dance. Nyriad liked being admired, but her love was for the master only. Twirling her hips, she slowed to a stop and said,

“Brother dear.”

Caleb turned to see a stunned Edron, his mouth agape.

“Why must you do that? These dolts are difficult enough to manage,” Caleb sighed.

Caleb lowered Dreadfire and stomped over to the spellbound Edron, striking him across the face. The blow was like that of a bull, knocking Edron to the ground. He shook his head and looked at Caleb, but his eyes drifted back to Nyriad who had turned her back to the hapless watcher. Tattoos ran down her spine, disappearing just underneath the sheer fabric of the veils.

“Like what you see?” she purred.

Caleb again slapped Edron and scolded his sister.

“Stop it, Nyriad. He is here for a reason.”

Edron slowly stood and struggled to focus on what he had rushed in the chamber to say.

“I am sorry, sir. You wanted me to bring word once the intruders found the entrance.”

“And have they?”

“Yes sir,” Edron stammered.

“Good,” Caleb said.

Caleb turned to Nyriad and asked,

“And have you left enough behind to help them ?”

Nyriad stopped dancing but lightly swayed back and forth.

“Yes, brother. My pets will keep them busy.”

“What about the bear?” Caleb asked.

“Worry not. Kodaz will wait until they reach him. Then the amusement will begin.”

When her brother scowled, Nyriad pouted and whirled up to Caleb. She rested her long delicate fingers on his chest and asked,

“Are you certain we cannot stay and watch?”

Caleb was immune to her charms, something that baffled Edron.

“No,” Caleb said sternly.

“But you know how much I like watching, ” Nyriad sulked.

Ignoring her, Caleb effortlessly lifted Dreadfire and once again rested the hammer on his shoulder.

“What shall we do, sir?” Edron asked.

“You will die for the master,” Caleb said.

“You mean they will,” Edron corrected.

With rhythmic movements of her hips and belly, Nyriad approached Edron. Taking his rough chin in her hand, she cooed,

“You will die for the master and for me, no?” she murmured smiling.

As though hypnotized, Edron beamed and answered,

“Of course, my lady.”

When Nyriad leaned in and kissed Edron, his legs went limp as a light flickered up her spine along the tattoos.

After a moment, she stepped back and a small wisp of black smoke curled from her mouth. Her eyes grew bright with glee as she watched Edron.

“What did you do, sister?” Caleb asked.

“Watch,” Nyriad said with delight.

Edron began to cough and choke as he grabbed at his chest and throat. His eyes bulging, he clawed at his throat and puffed cheeks. Suddenly his mouth burst open, and hundreds of spiders poured out as his dead body fell backwards to the chamber floor.

“Was this necessary?” Caleb asked.

“You would not let me stay, so yes it was,” Nyriad retorted as she clapped.

Caleb shook his head and said,

“Come. The master is not yet ready for us to meet the prince.”

Published in: on April 15, 2013 at 11:21 pm  Leave a Comment  
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