Dragons' Onyx (44 page)

King Arik shook his head and walked out of the clearing to be alone. He needed time to think, and not only about killing Gorga. He found a log to sit on and began eating his stew. Visions of the past flew through his head as he remembered the journeys and the people that had brought him to where he was today. Pictures of friends and enemies whirled in his mind. Many were scattered all over the world. Many others were long dead.

He remembered the days that he and Tedi had first met Garth Shado and Master Khatama. He chuckled inwardly as he remembered how foolish he and Tedi had been back then. They had thought that they were invincible at first. It didn’t take much to show them how wrong they were. For some reason, his mind focused on the first time that he had met Tanya. She was dressed like a boy that day. He chuckled inwardly as he remembered Tanya rebuking him for his attitude. He didn’t know at that time how talented she really was.

King Arik shook his head and wondered why his mind was wandering when he should be concentrating on the task of defeating Gorga. Suddenly, he realized that this was the first time that he was alone, truly alone. There was nobody to save him this time. He would either kill Gorga by himself, or he would die and destroy the hopes of all mankind.

Arik placed his bowl on the log and leaped to his feet. He walked around briskly to rid himself of his despairing thoughts. He wandered into a small clearing and gazed skyward. A dark frown fell over his face as he looked up. High above him the Darkness reigned, Sarac’s Darkness. As he stared at the Darkness, he felt a rage boiling up inside him. Visions of his friends faded, only to be replaced by images of starving people, poor destitute people being ravaged by Dark Riders and Black Devils.

Suddenly, an image of the vent tunnel that he had gone down the last time he was on Grakus came into view. Prince Darok and the elves had been with him that time. This time he was alone.

He walked back to the log and finished his stew. He thought about the last time he had seen his friends, back near Mount Kalas when Gorga had taken him away from those who could protect him. Suddenly, he bolted to his feet and began running. He ran into the clearing before Jorgel’s hut and threw the empty bowl to the old man as he raced into the cabin. He emerged from the cabin with all of his weapons.

“Are we in a hurry now?” chuckled Wyka. “Perhaps you would like a ride back to Tagaret?”

“Not likely,” King Arik declared as he fastened his weapons to his body. “We have a meeting with a friend of yours. Prepare to fly.”

Wyka looked at the king with uncharacteristic surprise as Arik ran across the clearing and leaped onto the dragon’s tail. The king scampered up the dragon’s back and grabbed onto a scale.

“Very well,” Wyka said as she raised herself off of the ground.

“Are you sure about this, lad?” asked Jorgel with concern.

“As sure as I have ever been about anything,” nodded King Arik. “Many people sit around in despair hoping that things could get better. I have the opportunity to do something about it. That is exactly what I plan to do.”

“Remind me, old man,” chuckled Wyka as she prepared to take off. “The next time I visit, I want some of whatever you put in that stew.”

“It will cost you dearly,” grinned Jorgel.

“Hmmph,” scowled Wyka. “If the stew is good, I will let you live.”

Wyka’s powerful legs pushed off the ground, and the dragon leaped into the sky. King Arik hung on tightly as the dragon rose high into the air. The forest gave way to the gray towers of the mountains as Wyka banked and climbed. Within minutes they were soaring over the peaks of the mountains. King Arik looked down at the mountain peaks. He spied a large volcano in the distance and knew it was their destination.

Wyka stopped moving her wings and glided silently. She reached the volcano and began gliding in a circle around it as she lost altitude. Suddenly, her wings beat furiously as she turned in toward the side of the mountain. King Arik saw a tiny ledge on the side of the mountain and a cave entrance on it.

“Hang on tightly,” warned the dragon. “This is not an easy perch for me to grasp.”

King Arik subconsciously nodded although he knew that Wyka could not see his response. He grabbed the scale tightly as the dragon’s body came flush up against the mountain.

“Now,” ordered Wyka. “Jump off quickly.”

King Arik hesitated only a second before blindly leaping towards the mountain. With his hands before him, King Arik impacted with the mountain as Wyka fell away. He was vaguely aware of the dragon’s beating wings as his hands sought some sort of purchase. He grabbed onto a protruding rock as his body tilted backwards. His hand began slipping, and Arik closed his eyes.

Suddenly, he felt something slam into his back. He quickly seized the rock with both hands and looked behind him. Wyka was hovering behind him, her wings beating furiously while her tail was pushing Arik into the mountain.

“Thank you,” breathed Arik as he nodded thankfully. “I have it now.”

Wyka immediately fell away and down. She reappeared moments later.

“You are on your own now, Dragon Heart,” Wyka purred. “May you be victorious in your battle.”

“I shall do my best,” smiled the king. “Thank you for all of your help.”

Wyka soared away, and Arik took stock of his situation. He gazed at the narrow ledge and saw that it went nowhere in either direction. The rock walls above and below him were sheer vertical faces. He doubted that he would have been able to access the ledge without Wyka’s help. He felt warm air flowing out of the cave. The air carried a stench of decay with it. He slid to the opening and stepped into the cave.

King Arik sighed with relief as he opened his pack and withdrew a torch. He was about to light it when he stopped and shook his head. He placed the torch back into his pack. The king walked into the cave until the light began to turn to darkness. He tried peering further into the tunnel, but he could see nothing. Arik moved to one side of the tunnel and placed his hand against the rock wall. He closed his eyes to let them become accustomed to the dark as he began inching his way deeper into the mountain.

After a few minutes, King Arik opened his eyes. There was no difference. His world was totally dark. He thought momentarily of lighting the torch, but he knew that would alert Gorga of his coming. Opting for surprise over vision, King Arik crept forward. He kept his hands free, holding neither torch nor weapon.

The tunnel continued downward in a gently slope. King Arik kept his senses alert as he listened for sounds of Gorga. He heard nothing, but the smell of decay grew steadily stronger. All of a sudden, King Arik felt nothing but air under his leading foot. He tried to grab at the wall that his hand had been touching to guide him, but his body was already leaning too far forward. He felt himself falling and instinctively raised his hands to protect his head. A couple of seconds later, he hit the ground hard. His body rolled into a ball on impact. He berated himself for not lighting the torch as he rolled along the tunnel.

It was all over after a few seconds. King Arik sat up and felt his bruises. His tunic was torn on one side and his body had numerous scrapes, but Arik nodded thankfully that nothing was broken. He stood with his arms stretched out in front of him and walked back towards the area where he fell. When he reached the area of his fall, his hands felt the rock in front of him as it rose higher than his hands could reach. He frowned with the knowledge that he could not leave the mountain the same way he had come, even though he had not quite figured out how he would get off the ledge when he did exit.

King Arik sighed and turned around. Once again, he placed one hand against the wall and slowly inched forward, only now he tested the floor with his foot before he committed to shifting his weight forward.

Several dozen paces later, the tunnel turned abruptly. King Arik stopped and blinked his eyes. Far off in the distance was the glimmer of a pale sliver of light. He smiled inwardly as he slowly moved towards it. As he got closer to the pale light, he was able to see the confines of the tunnel better. Soon he was able to walk normally without his hand pressed against the wall.

As he approached the end of the visible tunnel, he saw that another bend was just ahead. The light that was streaming in was coming from something around the corner. King Arik slowed as he approached the bend. When he reached the corner, he stopped completely and silently dropped to the floor. He could hear the dragon breathing around the corner. A shiver of fear raced up his spine, and he remained still until he was calm.

King Arik spread himself out on the floor of the tunnel and inched forward. He stopped when he saw the shadow on the far wall of the tunnel. The outline showed Gorga lying in wait, his head facing the small tunnel. King Arik bit his lip and tried to figure out how he could attack the dragon without getting burned first. Suddenly, the king heard a familiar voice.

“Such a fine day and you hide in your lair,” taunted Wyka.

“What do you want?” snarled Gorga. “Aren’t you a little far from your self-imposed exile?”

“I heard that the Wrong One had risen,” quipped Wyka. “I couldn’t resist coming and seeing for myself. Is there something the matter with your left eye? Or are you just winking at me?”

“I have no time for your foolish games, Wyka,” snarled Gorga. “You know very well what is wrong with my eye. Did you think that I didn’t spot you near Mount Kalas?”

“Oh,” grinned Wyka, “is that why you left in such a hurry? And I thought it was because of something important.”

King Arik saw the shadow move. It appeared that Gorga was turning to look at Wyka. He slid silently forward and peered around the corner. His body tingled as he saw the dragon’s lair. Gorga was poised to strike out at the tunnel, but now his head was turned toward the opposite side of the lair. Arik grabbed his bow and selected an arrow from his quiver. He stood up and prepared to turn the corner.

“It is something important that I do,” scowled Gorga. “Of course, I doubt that you will approve as it has nothing to do with all of the dragons loving one another, but your disapproval only makes my task more enjoyable.”

“What has happened to you, Gorga?” Wyka asked with a sigh. “We used to be friends at one time.”

King Arik stepped around the corner and saw the back of Gorga’s head. He slowly started advancing towards it.

“We also used to be children at one time,” snapped Gorga. “When you grew up, you lost track of what being a dragon means. It does not mean caring for everyone. It means being hated by everyone. It means being despicable, but most of all, it means being feared. You could never understand that.”

“No, I couldn’t,” Wyka replied sadly. “I couldn’t understand it then, and I can’t understand it now. Give me the Dragons’ Onyx and end this foolishness. I have no desire to see you die.”

“Die?” Gorga sneered. “I have no intention of dying. It is that little brat who will die. I am sure that you are tied to him somehow. You always were a sucker for the good little humans. Where are you hiding him?”

“Who?” asked Wyka. “I have no idea what you are talking about.”

“I don’t believe you for a minute,” snarled Gorga. “As a matter of fact, I bet I know where he is.”

Gorga’s head snapped around instantly, his mouth belching flame. He saw King Arik standing in the tunnel and directed the flames towards him. King Arik immediately let fly his arrow. The arrow streaked into Gorga’s good eye as flames washed over the king. Arik’s tunic burst into flames and the heat singed the hairs on his arms. As Gorga screamed and thrashed away from the tunnel entrance, King Arik dropped his bow and charged forward. He dove into the lair just as Gorga blindly spewed another burst of fire into the tunnel.

“Did I get him?” Gorga snarled painfully as he sent another burst of flames into the tunnel. “Is he dead?”

“Look for your self,” Wyka said softly. “I am not here to help you destroy everything that is good in the world.”

“How can I look for myself?” Gorga screamed as he turned his head towards Wyka. “That human waste has taken my other eye. Tell me if he is dead.”

“This is not my fight,” Wyka declared. “Dragon Heart and the Wrong One are destined to meet. Only one will survive.”

“Then be gone,” shouted Gorga as he sent flames towards Wyka.

Wyka moved away from the large entrance to the lair as Gorga turned his head and shot more flames into the tunnel.

“Where are you little beast?” growled Gorga. “Come and end this. I wish to savor your blood.”

King Arik knelt in front of Gorga and stared up at the massive head of the dragon. He waited until Gorga shouted and then got to his feet during the verbal tirade. Slowly and silently, the king drew the Sword of Heavens. The sword’s vibrations were tremendously strong, and Arik had to use all of his strength to control it. He froze while Gorga thrashed about. Several more times, Gorga yelled and shot flames into the tunnel. Each time King Arik inched closer to the dragon’s breast, but his target was too far above the ground. The minutes dragged on as nervous perspiration poured down the king’s face. His arms ached from the strain of controlling the Sword of Heavens.

Finally, Gorga’s tirade played out. With a sigh of exhaustion, the dragon went to lower its head to the floor. When he did, King Arik struck. The Sword of Heavens slipped between the scales on the dragon’s breast. Gorga gasped in surprise as the Sword of Heavens pierced deep into the dragon’s heart.

“No,” Gorga screamed as he felt his life slipping away. “This cannot be. You are to be the one to die.”

“Sorry, Gorga,” retorted King Arik. “The well-being of the world is more important than your desire to serve the Dark One.”

Gorga slashed out frantically in a last bid to take King Arik with him, but the king stood his ground and pushed hard on the Sword of Heavens. Gorga’s body collapsed on top of King Arik, knocking him to the floor. The fear of being crushed by the dragon’s body raced through the king’s mind, but there was no time for him to react.

While Gorga passed his last breath, King Arik stared at the massive body an inch from his face. The king slowly inched his body backwards until he could stand up. He knelt and peered under the body, wondering why it hadn’t crushed him. He saw the Sword of Heavens, its blade immersed in the dragon’s body, and its hilt against the floor of the lair. Only the hilt of the Sword of Heavens had saved the king.