Dragons' Onyx (33 page)

“Are you afraid of Gorga?” asked Alex.

“Afraid?” blustered Wyka. “How dare you even think such a thing. I should roast you after all.”

“Fear is not always a bad thing,” countered Jenneva. “At times it is respectable. You do not need to impress me with your bravery. We have already seen it.”

Wyka rose and growled as her tail whipped through the large pile of treasure. “You leave me no room for fun, wizard,” snapped the dragon. “How can I act ferocious if you keep thinking good of me?”

“I won’t tell anyone,” giggled Jenneva. “Can you help Arik? I fear he is heading for serious trouble.”

“I am not sure what I can do to help him,” admitted the dragon. “If he is Dragon Heart, and if Gorga is the Wrong One, the battle must fall to the two of them. It is not something that I can do for him. If King Arik is not Dragon Heart, I am bound to protect my fellow dragons. Perhaps you would have been better off to let me sleep.”

“Do you know the dragons who dwell on Grakus?” asked Jenneva.

“I know all dragons,” answered Wyka. “It is not like there are thousands of us. Still, Gorga and I dwelled in a different Universe from the rest until the Collapse. I do not presume to be one of their fold. I will speak to them, although there is little I could do in any event.”

“Speed is important,” warned Alex. “King Arik is being lured to the Dark One by Gorga. We fear it is a trap. Will you leave right away?”

“No,” scowled the dragon. “Not before you climb up on my back and assure me that your initials have faded away. I do not want to be laughed at by my own people.”

“Laughed at?” smirked Alex. “Surely, they must have heard of me by now? You can claim that I let you get away with only small scars. They will be impressed with your fighting prowess.”

Wyka turned and shot flames within a pace of Alex’s feet. “Bah,” she growled as she ground her back against the cave wall. “I will tell them it is the scars of an infectious disease spread by humans. Maybe they will become fearful and eradicate your kind in self-defense. That would teach you a lesson.”

“They really are small marks,” giggled Jenneva. “I doubt anyone will see them.”

“If they do,” snarled the dragon, “I will hunt you down and eat you. Now be gone. I must prepare to visit my kin. I must look my best for such reunions.”

“Farewell, Wyka,” Alex said merrily as he bowed in mock reverence. “May your journey be fraught with numerous humans.”

Smoke curled from Wyka’s nostrils and Jenneva laughed.

“It will be a treat for you to fly without the Darkness for once,” Jenneva said. “Be aware though that portions of the world still exist under the Darkness. Grakus is one such area.”

* * *

Tashlan eased through the streets of Tagaret in a seemingly random manner. He checked the street behind himself often, always being careful to avoid being followed. Something was gnawing at his subconscious, but he could not detect what it was. He always felt as if he was being observed, but he never saw anyone when he looked. He also thought that people at the Royal Palace were treating him slightly different than they had been. He pushed the thought from his mind and turned the corner.

Several blocks later, Tashlan glanced back again before entering a boarding house. He walked up three flights of stairs and knocked on a door. When it was answered, he entered and closed the door behind him.

An hour later, when Tashlan was leaving the room at the boarding house, he felt the hair rise on the back of his neck. He also thought he heard someone moving swiftly down the stairs. His senses alert, Tashlan moved silently and cautiously, but he saw no sign of anyone suspicious. Upon exiting the building, Tashlan carefully scanned the street, but he saw nothing out of the ordinary. Chalking up his apprehension to an over active imagination, Tashlan left the area of the boarding house and continued to walk the streets of Tagaret in a random fashion.

An hour later, Tashlan looked behind him and stopped. He stared suspiciously at the man walking along the street and recognized him as one of the Knights of Alcea. Tashlan resumed walking and made a right at the next corner. He kept watching behind him and saw the Knight pass by the intersection.

“I need to calm down,” Tashlan muttered to himself. “When I begin to think that a blind man is following me, I am getting too suspicious.”

Tashlan continued his walk, stopping at a butcher shop, and a bakery. Each stop lasted about half an hour. Each time, Tashlan took great precautions to make sure that he was not being observed. The tingling sensation that he had been feeling all day disappeared. Although he continued with his random pattern of walking, Tashlan’s step was lighter after his suspicions fled.

So it was with great consternation that the Black Devil saw the blind man behind him again. While it could be a coincidence, Tashlan had to be sure. He stood staring at the blind man as he approached. The Knight used a cane to tap the ground before him and appeared to be in no hurry. Tashlan wondered if the Knight was truly blind. As the blind man approached, Tashlan stuck his leg out in front of the blind man. The Knight tripped and sprawled onto the street. Tashlan stepped over and pulled the man to his feet.

“I am sorry,” apologized the Black Devil. “Are you hurt?”

The Knight ran his hands over his cane to make sure that it had not broken in the fall. “I am fine,” the blind man said. “Thank you for helping me up.”

“It was the least I could do,” the Black Devil said pleasantly. “I am afraid that is was my fault that you tripped. I have seen you before. Aren’t you a Knight of Alcea?”

“Some call me that,” frowned the blind man. “I guess at one time I was. My fighting days are over, though. My name is Wylan.”

“My name is Tashlan,” the Black Devil introduced himself. “I still see you at the Royal Palace from time to time. Surely, you must have some position there to gain entry at will?”

“My fiancée works there,” replied Wylan. “She helps to distribute food. The soldiers do not seem to mind that I visit her and hang around. Do you work at the palace?”

“Me?” chuckled Tashlan with feigned shock. “No. I am just a visitor from afar. I do know some of the soldiers, though. They seem to be a friendly sort there.”

“Some of them,” frowned Wylan. “Others tend to make fun of me. I don’t spend much time around them. Lately, I have taken up walking. I walk all over the city for hours at a time. It is relaxing and gives me time to think.”

“I did see you a couple of times today,” the Black Devil smiled thinly. “I thought perhaps you were lost.”

“No,” responded Wylan. “Some days I just can’t stand to be in the Royal Palace. My fiancée gets busy with things, and I feel like I am just hanging around and getting in the way. So I go for a walk. Most of the time it is just random wandering.”

“How do you ever find your way back?” inquired Tashlan. “Do you want me to escort you?”

“Oh, no,” Wylan shook his head. “That would be embarrassing. My fiancée used to escort me there, but that is when the snickers began. I quickly found that I could navigate by sounds and smells. I know each shop near the Royal Palace. They cannot laugh at me any more.”

“Would you care for a meal?” Tashlan asked as he began to see Wylan as an opportunity for information about the Royal Palace. “I am getting rather hungry and would pay for your meal just for the company.”

“That is a very generous offer,” smiled Wylan. “I would enjoy that very much, but I should get back to the Royal Palace. My fiancée has the second half of the day off and she has planned a picnic. I wouldn’t want to disappoint her. Perhaps another time?”

“I look forward to it,” Tashlan said. “I will look for you walking some day. Or perhaps I will find you at the palace.”

“Thank you,” nodded Wylan as he extended his cane and began walking towards the Royal Palace.

Wylan made it to the Royal Palace and went directly to Zackary Nolan’s office. The colonel invited him in and closed the door.

“You are back early,” commented the colonel. “Is there a problem?”

“Perhaps a problem,” answered Wylan, “or perhaps an opportunity. Tashlan tripped me today.”

“Tripped you?” questioned the colonel. “Do you mean that he discovered you following him?”

“No,” laughed Wylan, “I mean he physically tripped me. He stuck his foot out and caused me to fall. I believe he suspected that I might be following him and wanted to see if I was really blind.”

“And did you pass the test?” inquired Zackary.

“I believe so,” nodded Wylan. “He was skeptical at first, but I think he finally fell for my bluff. He invited me to share a meal with him. I put him off so that I could plan what to say during the conversation. I am sure that he is hoping to get some juicy insights into the palace.”

“Be careful with him, Wylan,” warned Colonel Nolan. “Always remember that he is a skilled Black Devil. He is very talented at playing a deceitful game, and he would not give a second thought to ending your life.”

“I am aware of that,” conceded Wylan. “Still, it is an avenue to exchange information with one of Emperor Hanchi’s men. I would love to find out who the emperor really is. It may help us when it comes time to battle him.”

“I am sure that it would,” nodded the colonel, “but I am not willing to risk your life to get that information. Where did he go today?”

“Only three stops,” reported Wylan. “One was a bakery, and another was a butcher. They were both half hour stops. The most interesting stop was at a boarding house. He visited a room on the third floor for over an hour. I think it would be wise of us to keep a watch on the men in that room. I was thinking of renting the room next door to them. If there is someone in it, we can offer them a better place to live.”

“I like that idea,” agreed Zack, “but not for you. You are too visible for that assignment. That you have been able to follow Tashlan for several days is a testament to your skill, but we should not tempt fate. You may pursue the meal with him, but I will get someone else to follow him for a while. Besides, I have another task for you.”

* * *

“We are right back where we started,” complained Mustar. “Dubar is not far up the road. Why are we just wandering around?”

“We are not wandering,” Boris replied calmly as he handed a plate of food to Podil. “This is where we need to be to travel further north.”

“But if we go north from here,” interjected Fredrik, “we will have to go under the Darkness. You know that is not wise.”

“It is not wise,” agreed Master Khatama, “but it is necessary. We are through with the need to be in Sordoa and Lanoir. It is time to head north.”

“May I ask what is so important up north?” asked Balamor.

“I assume that is exactly what you are asking,” smiled Boris. “The question you really want to ask, Balamor, is not what is important in the north, but rather who is important in the north. Our group is far from complete.”

“Very well,” sighed Balamor. “Who is so important that we must travel north?”

“The answer to that question does not concern you at the moment,” Master Khatama answered as he handed Niki a plate. “There is a more important question that faces us. That question is; how do I survive another trip under the Darkness.”

“Is it really necessary, Uncle Boris?” asked Niki. “I don’t like the way you get under the Darkness.”

“I am afraid that it is, Niki,” smiled Boris. “While our group represents some of the world’s most powerful magicians, it is still not strong enough. I must go north to continue my search.”

“Why not fly?” inquired Fredrik. “The trip would be shorter that way.”

“No,” Mustar shook his head. “That is not the answer. If anything, Master Khatama would be more susceptible to the effects of the Darkness in the form of an owl. While the time spent would be shorter, the risk would be far more dangerous. No, there must be another solution.”

“The effects of the Darkness are airborne,” commented Balamor. “I noticed this in Pog. Those creatures that inhabited the lower depths of the sea were less affected than those who lived near the surface.”

“Then shielding might work,” suggested Podil. “Certainly a shield can be made that is airtight.”

“But you are dealing with people,” Fredrik pointed out. “We need air to breath, and the trip by wagon will take some days to complete.”

“Actually,” interjected Mustar, “Master Khatama is the only one of us requiring a shield. The Darkness does not affect the rest of us in such a dangerous way.”

“The rest of us could take turns maintaining the shields over the Mage,” offered Podil. “We should travel day and night until we emerge from the Darkness. Fredrik and Niki could take turns driving the wagon.”

“There is still the problem of air to breath,” Fredrik repeated. “Even the Mage must have air.”

“Yes,” nodded Balamor, “but how much air? If the Mage could be reduced to a comatose state, his need for air would be greatly diminished.”

“You mean to give him some barrel weed?” asked Niki. “I don’t like that idea.”

“You said the pit berries needed to be administered within an hour,” argued Fredrik. “He would die.”

“Not barrel weed,” Balamor shook his head, “but something similar. Barrel weed is not the only thing that can cause such a state.”

“Fengel root?” asked Podil.

“That is what I was thinking of,” nodded Balamor. “We are not likely to find any in this desert terrain, though.”

“Actually,” offered Mustar, “I know where some is located not far from here. My home is a short distance away. I have some Fengel root there. Should I get it?”

“Yes,” decided Boris. “This is the safest way for me to make the trip. The shields will have to be maintained at all times under the Darkness. There must be adequate air within the shield to last for the duration of the trip.”

“A large box could be filled with air and then sealed,” suggested Podil.

“Like a coffin?” gasped Niki. “That is horrible.”

“But necessary,” smiled Boris. “We can make the coffin while Mustar fetches the fengel root.”

“You risk much to get to the north,” sighed Podil. “Are these people you seek really that important to what we must do?”