Faith Of The Dragon Tamer (Book 2) (30 page)

The Druids didn’t hear them. Every eye was closed and raised to the hollow section of the Obelisk. Nigel recalled his pain from years ago when the three Druids had tried to claim his power. His anger boiled inside, yearning for a kill.

Nigel stopped in front of the Drek and put a hand on the wizard’s arm, indicating for him to remain silent. Zorc bristled but nodded his assent.

Nigel clutched his anger to him like a blanket and pulled his sword from the scabbard. It echoed in the chamber with terminal resolution. All humming stopped. The Drek’s eyes opened. His face held no emotion, but Nigel could see the recognition in his gaze. The Drek’s body grew taut and a nerve began to twitch near his left eye.

Nigel smiled, free of the mask he had worn his entire life: first as a prince, second as an assassin. From that day hence he was neither price nor knight. He was who he was. And all would know.

He took a step forward. The silence was penetrating.

“My name is Nigel Augustus, heir to the throne of Oldan, known to you as the Black Knight. Years ago Druids took my sister, my love, and my life. I declared war. Today I wish to end it if and only if you honor one request.”

An electric current went through the assembly as quiet words were whispered and then stilled. Nigel could smell the hate, and the fear.

“Give me the Chosen.” When he was met with no reply, he lowered his voice to a harsh whisper. “I don’t think you’ll like the consequences if you refuse.”

“The Chosen isn’t for us to give,” the Drek said.

Nigel could sense Zorc quaking anger and put out his hand, signaling for Zorc to remain silent. It didn’t work.

Zorc pushed past him. “Where is he!”

It wasn’t a question. It was a demand.

The Drek focused on Zorc for what seemed to be the first time. His brows twitched for a few breaths, but then his features smoothed into an emotionless mask.

Nigel could feel the Druids’ weak attempt to gain entrance to his mind. He grinned. This would be fun. Zorc batted at the air as if a swarm of gnats were in his way. The Druids were either too few or too weak to do anything to the wizard.

The Drek glided back a step as Zorc strode forward. Nigel’s eyes were drawn to the pedestal behind the Drek. Blood stained its surface. He remembered Ramie’s description of the prince. Ren was a kindred spirit, a brother and a friend. Nigel took a step closer.

Zorc grabbed the Drek with both hands. The Druids rushed forward to protect their leader. Zorc was ready. He raised his hand. The Druids slammed into an invisible wall.

“You fool!” Zorc said, leaning closer to the Drek. “Did you honestly believe you had the One? Did you?”

The Drek’s eyes widened.

With that look, Nigel saw the truth. The Druids had been tricked. They honestly thought they had the One. Apparently Zorc saw it too, for he released his hold, although his eyes still burned like two hot coals.

“You’ve sentenced the world to darkness,” Zorc said. “Were you such a fool to think you were protecting the Lands? Did you honestly think closing the Chosen would force Barracus to wait for another? Now Barracus will be able to enter the Chosen with ease, for now Ren can’t fight back.”

Tears shimmered in the Druid’s eyes. Nigel almost felt sorry for the Drek until he glanced back at the pedestal. He tightened his grip on his sword.

The invisible wall exploded with a sharp “swoosh.” Zorc’s scream shattered Nigel’s calm. The Druids began to rush them. Nigel spun.

A Druid ran from a side door. He had the most putrid yellow eyes Nigel had ever seen, and they were focused on the wizard.

Zorc lay on the floor beside a broken bottle, dreadfully pale.

Nigel grabbed the Drek and put his sword against the hollow of the man’s back. The horde of Druids stopped, unsure of what to do. The yellow-eyed Druid continued to walk forward, eyes finding Nigel.

A sharp, hard slam exploded in Nigel’s mind. His internal door almost imploded. Nigel sagged backward, holding his door firm but feeling the resonant pressure of the depraved man on the other side. The yellow eyes narrowed. The pressure became stronger.

Just as Nigel felt himself weakening, his mind emptied. Nigel released a gasp just as Galvin screamed a warning.

Galvin pointed, but it was too late.

Nigel was shoved forward. His sword sliced through the Drek.

The Drek grunted as blood pounded from the wound, but instead of looking at Nigel the Drek turned to the Druid who had pushed Nigel’s sword.

“My only son.”

A murky-eyed Druid hid a smile as his eyes flickered to Nigel in victory. He turned to the horde of Druids and shouted, “He has killed my father. Now we must kill him!”

The Druids screamed in rage and rushed forward. Everything seemed to move in slow motion. Nigel looked into the murky eyes of the new Drek and felt his loathing grow to the very depths of his soul.

The Black Knight came to life.

He rose in a wave of black fury and grabbed the man around the neck of his white robe, raising him off the ground. Nigel brought up his bloodied sword and wiped it on the Druid’s robe, signifying the betrayal.

The mass of white-robed Druids still hurled forward. Nigel felt the power inside him and remembered the feel of Zorc’s fury as he unleashed it to create the invisible barricade.

He cracked his internal door and hurled his hate forward with the Quy, slamming a wall of air into the approaching Druids, hurling them back. The man in his hands squirmed and choked.

“Where is he?”

Nigel felt a hard slam in his mind. He gasped, trying to close his door, but it was too late.

The yellow-eyed one began to take his power. For the second time in his life, he felt part of his soul being torn from him.

Galvin had his sword at the hollow of the yellow-eyed Druid’s neck. A small rivulet of blood oozed from the sword’s tip, but Galvin had turned a ghostly white. For a heartbeat Nigel thought the Druid had somehow taken Galvin’s mind, but after a slight hesitation Galvin drew back his sword and slammed it against the Druid’s head, knocking him unconscious. The pressure immediately dissipated.

Nigel slammed the invisible wall back into place, but he knew he couldn’t survive another attack. He turned to Galvin with unspoken haste. Galvin scooped up the wizard and ran for the door. Still clutching the Drek’s son, Nigel ran after Galvin, leveling the remaining Druids with his gaze. He released the Quy and shut himself protectively behind his internal sanctuary, safe from the Druids’ tentacles. A large vessel with glowing embers rested beside the door. Nigel kicked it over, spilling its contents. A white curtain shielding a side room from view ignited in flames.

The Druids screamed behind him.

He ran down the stairs, still dragging the murky-eyed Druid. Now all they could do was run, and they still didn’t know where the Druids held Ren.

When he reached the main hallway he saw Galvin just ahead with Zorc slung over his shoulder like a sack of grain.

The Druids pursued them down the steps. Nigel’s heart quickened. A deafening blast came from behind. Nigel dared a glance back. Fire spilled down the stairs. Whatever the Druids kept in the chamber behind the curtain didn’t take kindly to heat.

The Drek’s son scraped the sides of the walls, trying to slow Nigel’s flight. Nigel finally turned and bashed the Druid’s face. The man lost his balance and fell. Nigel hauled the Druid behind him, not caring how many bones the man broke along the way.

The hollow Zorc had blasted was just ahead. Nigel picked up the pace. Galvin did the same. When they broke into the sunlight they careened their way through the birch trees, making a straight path to the ship.

The ship was gone.

Galvin skidded to a stop, frantically searching the shoreline. Nigel turned to the Druid. There were scrapes all over him, a wicked gash on his forehead, but the fire in his eyes was still alive. Nigel put his sword against the Druid’s chest. He leaned forward.

“Where’s a ship?”

The man grinned. Blood oozed to the surface of his chest. “Already sailed to Agger Point, the Chosen on it.” He cackled like a madman.

Nigel stiffened as a wave of Druids erupted from the Obelisk. They were going to die. It would be impossible for two men to fight so many Druids. With grim determination, Nigel tightened the grip on his sword, vowing to cut as many down as he could.

Galvin turned to Nigel and nodded. “It’s been a pleasure.”

“Truly said.”

They clasped arms before they turned to face their deaths.

- - -

From out of nowhere Neki sprinted by them, straight for the wave of Druids, screaming like a lunatic and waving his saber in the air as if he were going to annihilate every last Druid on Dresden.

Nigel stood in stunned confusion. The Druids stumbled to a halt and began running in the opposite direction.

After the initial shock, Nigel laughed.

“Maker’s fates. He has a boat!”

Nigel blinked. Galvin was right. If Neki was on the island, he had a boat.

“Run!” Neki screamed.

Nigel turned to see Neki swiveling in midair as the Druids regained their senses and resumed their charge. But it was enough. Neki had given them time.

Nigel laughed as he ran to the shore. For as long as he lived he would never forget the sight. He had never seen anything like it.

“Remind me to kiss him, will you?” Nigel shouted at Galvin.

Galvin only grinned.

After leaping into the funny looking boat, Galvin laid the wizard down and grabbed an oar, preparing to shove off as soon as Neki boarded. The kota pranced a greeting. Nigel did a double take when he saw her. Why would Neki bring the kota?

“Go, go, go!” Neki said, running toward them at full speed, saber slicing the air. Nigel took another oar and helped Galvin shove off. The kota continued to prance. Her drumming hooves reminded Nigel of a war chant.

Although the Druids weren’t gaining on Neki, they could still reach the boat before it was safely away.

“Faster!”

Neki dove into the water and disappeared. Heartbeats later he was beside the boat, gasping for air. Nigel grabbed his tunic and hauled him in.

When Neki fell to the deck he wasted no time. Rolling to his feet he positioned himself behind the sail. A sudden breeze picked up and the boat lurched forward. Nigel lost his balance and fell over Zorc’s sprawled body.

Nigel looked back. The Druids on the shore weren’t coming after them, but they all had their hands clasped in a stance Nigel recognized.

“Neki! Get down!”

Neki didn’t seem to hear. He was concentrating on the wind.

The Druids’ eyes focused on Neki. Nigel didn’t know how far the Druid power ranged but he intended to find out. The only thing that could save Neki was distance.

Galvin was already grunting with effort as he rowed the boat forward.

It wasn’t fast enough. Neki released a scream.

“Hold on, Neki!” Nigel caught Neki as his body careened down the side of the boat. Nigel didn’t hesitate. Nigel exploded out of his inner sanctuary and spun his desperation through the air. The boat lunged forward.

Neki was pale, but he twisted with effort. They hadn’t closed him yet.

“More!” Galvin shouted.

Nigel didn’t know how to conjure the continuous breeze Neki had, only the bursts came natural, but he released them one right after the other. The Druids’ tentacles searched his mind, trying to reach his door, but with each burst the tentacles became more tenuous.

Galvin continued to row, but his face was contorted with worry. “Get him down!”

Neki moaned again. His eyes rolled back in his head. They almost had him.

Nigel covered Neki’s body with his own, feeling the tentacles retreat, the wood of the boat somehow blocking the Druid power even more. After a few more bursts, Neki’s eyes fluttered open. Nigel rolled away as he felt the last of the Druid tentacles fade to nothing.

Neki began the breeze again, but his face held a lingering horror of the tentacles.

“No.”

Galvin’s cry forced Nigel back to the task at hand. Peering over the boat, he froze.

“May the Maker’s fates be with us.”

Although they were well away from the island they weren’t far enough away to miss the five Druids standing apart from the others: five Druids with five xectics.

A high-pitched whine screeched through the air. The kota growled in irritation.

“Burning cinders, faster,” Neki whispered, more to himself than to anyone else.

The ship moved like the ten winds, but it wasn’t fast enough. They were sitting targets on the Old Sea.

“Nigel,” Galvin said, “how long will it take the Druidonian to find us?”

As if in reply, the water rolled with ebullient foam. The boat lurched forward, teetering dangerously to the side. Galvin dove for Zorc, catching the wizard’s robe before he was flung off the side of the vessel. The kota screamed a warning. Nigel turned in time to see a silver mass begin to emerge from the turbulent waves. Silver scales glittered in the sun as mammoth shoulders crashed through the surface … then a head … then a neck. Someone gasped.

The Druidonian’s neck extended skyward for almost three stories, and its head was over twice was big as their boat. Water cascaded down its silvery scales and seaweed clung to its length like leeches. Its eyes were solid silver holes, blending with the scales but glowing with an unnatural fury, even for a predator. Nigel took a step back.

The air stilled. Neither Nigel nor Neki could conjure a breeze if they tried. The waves crashed into the side of the boat, jerking them fro and back, but they couldn’t take their eyes off the horror before them.

The Druidonian bellowed a warning. Teeth as long as thighbones gleamed in the morning’s sun. Its head moved closer, mouth curling in a snarl.

“Holy Maker,” Neki whispered as he crawled over and began shaking Zorc. Nigel remembered what the wizard had said. No magic could kill the creature, and no weapon could defeat it. He put a hand on Neki’s arm, shaking his head as if to say the wizard would be of no use. Nigel didn’t even know if the wizard still lived.

“Wind!” Galvin shouted as the Druidonian’s head moved closer.