Dark Sun: Prism Pentad 1 - The Verdent Passage (38 page)

The high templar's arms began to tremble so badly that Agis could see the axe shaking.
Nevertheless, he brought the heavy axe down upon another obsidian ball. Standing in the
center of a scattering of black fragments, Tithian made no move to leave his corner.

Agis forced himself to his feet, fixing his eyes on the Heartwood Spear. He stumbled over
to it, whispering over and over to himself that he was not tired, that he had plenty of
strength left. He picked up the wooden shaft. It seemed impossibly heavy, at least for
muscles still liquid from the effects of psionic exhaustion.

The larva reached Tithian at last. Rising up to its full height, the dragon-king opened
its maw. The high templar screamed in terror and let Neeva's axe slip from his hands.
Dropping to the floor, he curled into a ball.

Agis braced the spear in both hands and charged just as the thing that was Kalak lowered
its head to bite Tithian. The exhausted noble screamed a feral battle cry and thrust the
Heartwood Spear into the back of the dragon's head. The oak shaft slid smoothly and easily
into the heavy skull, requiring no strength at all. Agis took two more steps forward,
driving the point as deeply as possible into the dragon-king's brain.

A shudder ran through the serpentine body. Kalak gave a single thunderous bellow, shaking
the room to its foundation and knocking a cascade of loose bricks off the ceiling. The
beast's head dropped to the floor at Tithian's feet, one end of the spear protruding from
its mouth.

Agis dropped to his knees, trembling and gasping for breath. Tithian took his hands from
his face and studied Kalak's vacant eyes. After a moment, when the thought that the
dragon-king was dead took root in his mind, the fear washed from the high templar's face
and he retrieved Neeva's axe. Tentatively, he struck the larva's head with the blade. When
it did not flinch, he raised the axe higher and brought it down on the beast's neck more
sharply. The blow opened only a small wound, but the dragon did not respond at all.

“The king is dead,” he said, dropping the axe.

Agis nodded and also stood. “Tyr is free.”

Tithian stepped past the noble. Agis turned to follow and saw Sadira kneeling at Neeva's
side. The sorceress gently probed the unconscious gladiator's smashed nose while holding
the woman's mouth open so she could breathe.

Rikus sat a few yards away, grimacing in pain and still dazed from the mauling Kalak had
given him. More than a dozen wounds were visible on his bulky torso, all oozing dark red
blood. In places, bits of white rib showed through. He stoically took measure of his
injuries and, tearing strips from his clothes, began to bind them as best he could.

Tithian passed within an arm's reach of the mul but did not pay him the slightest
attention. Instead, the high templar went to the wall where Kalak had been molting. He
dropped to his knees and began running his hands through the steaming pools of dark blood
that covered the floor.

Silently cursing the high templar's callousness, Agis went to the gladiator's side. The
noble began to tear strips from his own robe, then aided the mul in bandaging his many
wounds.

“You killed Kalak,” Rikus wheezed. He squeezed the noble's hand. “Well done.”

“No, we killed Kalak,” Agis corrected, warmly returning the mul's handclasp. He looked in
the direction of Sadira and Neeva, then added, “We couldn't have done it without each
other.”

Near the wall, Tithian rose to his feet, a self-satisfied smirk on his face. In his hands,
he held the golden diadem that Kalak had worn for a thousand years. Both the crown and his
fingers were stained with black blood.

“Long live the king!” he whispered, placing the circlet on his own head.