The Dragon God (Book 2) (17 page)

Abawken wandered the dunes on the outskirts of his home in the east, under the relentless afternoon sun. The sand shifted under his steps. He knew better than to be distracted, but his mind was elsewhere. He didn’t notice the tremors in the dunes behind him, or the slight hum of the desert monster Beltothi, the digging mouth filled with teeth and tentacles, moving slowly and methodically underground, sensing the vibrations of its next victim.

He took a deep breath. These daily solitary walks were not providing him the answers he needed to the problems waiting for him within the city walls. “Perhaps tomorrow,” he sighed and turned, resigning himself to head back.

He noticed a moment before it surfaced; far too late to escape—his leg was quickly caught within the Beltothi’s grasp. He already felt the strength of the squeezing arm, barely visible as it blended so perfectly. He looked frantically for his scimitar but it was not in sight. He bent toward the creature, trying to pry the arm away, but with no effect. It tightened its grip and slid further up his leg, sliding him closer to the gaping maw. He could see the sharp, criss-crossed teeth lining the wide opening in the sand. More tentacles slithered out and reached toward him.

Seconds remained before the human fighter would be consumed. Abawken looked around and noticed he was surrounded by large crested dunes. He knew in his mind that he would never travel to the basin of the hills knowing full well the Beltothi lurked in such places.
“This doesn’t seem right,”
he thought.

Just then he spotted the silhouette of a desert nomad, cloak fluttering in the arid breeze, face wrapped, only revealing darkened eyes.

“Help me!” Abawken yelled, but the figure did not move.

He heard the sand cascading down inside the mouth of the creature as he was pulled to the edge. Abawken dug his heels into the hardened carapace lip, but felt sure his legs would snap from the tremendous strength of the Beltothi.

He looked back toward the figure, but the mysterious nomad was gone. His leg buckled and he felt the rising heat of his muscles tearing in his legs under the extreme pressure. The smell of death seeped into his skin as the mouth belched and gurgled.

Suddenly, the Beltothi was gone, and he lay safe atop the sand surface again.
“Sand Dragon must have scared it off,”
he thought, still dazed.

Abawken gripped his injured leg with his hands and then began to crawl away. As he turned toward his home, he bumped into the wrapped leather boots of the nomad he had seen earlier. He looked up, but the sun overhead caused him to squint and he could only see the halo of light around the cloaked figure.

“Who are you?”

A female voice responded, “I’m the hunter.”

“There is a Sand Dragon nearby,” Abawken warned, his mouth dry.

“No, there is not.”

“You created the sound to scare the Beltothi?” he surmised.

“I’m the hunter.”

“You hunt the Beltothi?”

“You assume much, my dear Abawken.”

“How do you know my name?” he asked, struggling to stand. He was more terrified now than he had been in the jaws of the Beltothi a moment ago. Just then, the smell of Lilac infiltrated his nostrils and the sudden realization hit his face. “Devana.”

“That never gets old,” she said, “I like the way you say my name.”

Abawken stood, “Devana, why do you torture me like this?”

“Oh, is that what I am doing?”

“You are a dream witch, nothing more.”

“It is a shame that is all you think of me.”

“You can’t have it, Devana.”

“You know it doesn’t belong to you,” she retaliated.

“It chose me.”

She paused and smiled, “I would hate for any of your band of misfits to get hurt.”

“Keep them out of this,” he bit back.

“Where are you and these friends of yours going anyway?”

He reluctantly responded, “We are looking for Master Spilfer’s parents.”

“Oh, another noble quest for the famous Abawken,” she mocked.

“Let me finish this journey, and then we can talk, Devana.”

“I have my deadlines, but I have been quite entertained with you and your friends, plus I have missed our rendezvous of late. You do have some time remaining, but I cannot guarantee you will be able to finish, and you know I always catch my prey. It would make things a great deal easier if you simply relinquish what I’m hunting.”

“Like I said, it chose me. I cannot give you what is not my right to give.”

Devana’s head tilted sideways and she grinned, “You have changed, Abawken. What happened to you?”

“Why have you chosen this life, Devana?” he countered.

“This life chose me and you know it.”

“When we were kids, we talked about our future—”

“A future?” she cut him off. “With a former slave girl? What would that be? Come now, we were children with wild dreams.”

“Devana, I still believe in you.”

“So easy for you to say, but we’ve each made our choices.”

“We saw things differently, and my father—”

She cut him off again, “Has paid me well to track you and retrieve his treasure.”

“I could have never imagined what you have become, Devana.”

“There is one thing certain in life, my dear Abawken, and that is death, nothing else. I have chosen to embrace it and work alongside of it. Relax, I
try
to make it as painless as possible for most.”

Abawken looked away from her, but Devana compelled him to step closer to her. He tried to resist, but just like the world and creatures she had created, it felt outside his control. She unwrapped the linen around her face to reveal her smooth and perfect skin. Her bronze hair cascaded down below her shoulders and her chestnut colored eyes penetrated his very soul. He tried to look away but his will was overrun.

Without touching him, she abruptly pushed him away, “Remember what I said. Your time is running out.”

Abawken awoke next to the dying embers of their fire. Dulgin poked at them, sending tiny sparks into the air. Bridazak and Spilf were asleep on the other side of the pit.

“Is it my turn to guard, Master Dulgin?” the human asked as he sat upright.

“Who is she?” the Dwarf asked while keeping his gaze fixed on the fire.

“I am not sure what you are speaking of.”

“She broke your heart? Someone you left behind back home perhaps?”

“Just another bad dream, Master Dwarf.”

“I understand. You miss this person.” Dulgin continued to poke at the fire.

“She is not the one that I miss,” the human whispered. His thoughts were no longer with the hopes of his past, but with the hopes of his future.

“Well, I’m quite aware of these so called
bad dreams
of yours, and won’t make a second mistake of trying to wake you like before. Surprised you didn’t wake Bridazak and Stubby over there.”

“Past demons that haunt me still,” Abawken responded.

“Oh, Dwarves call them ex-wives.”

“You had a wife?”

“Don’t be tryin to change the subject Huey, but no, I have not, just never was the settling down type, and never found the one with the right amount of facial hair.”

Abawken chuckled, “Your females are bearded?”

“Of course. Most of our beard contests are won by the women. The pride they bring to our race warms my heart. Now why don’t you tell me about what
chose
you,” Dulgin’s face turned serious and he glared at Abawken.

The human locked eyes with him and understood it was futile to dissuade the determined dwarf. “My sword. It chose me.”

“Now you have my attention. Go on.”

“The Sword of the Elements has an intelligent soul held within. It chooses its wielder.”

“So where does this woman come into play?”

“Her name is Devana. We grew up together, but something changed along the way, and she chose a different path in life. She has been hired by my father to bring the sword back to Zoar. This sword has great meaning where I come from and has been only in the hands of Kings.”

“Kings? Guess your sword had a change of heart then,” Dulgin scoffed.

Abawken waited silently, holding his stare with his dwarven friend. Dulgin caught his look and saw the intensity in his eyes. “Wait, are you telling me you are of royal blood?”

“Yes, my father is the King of Zoar to the far east beyond the Horn Kings of your region. However, my call in life is not there, but here, with you.”

“Yeah, I understand, but that makes you a Prince. Well, this changes things.”

“How so, Master Dulgin? I am still the same man.”

“Now, I need to be calling you Princey.” They both chuckled softly so as not to wake the others.

Unbeknownst to them, Bridazak was awake, and had overheard the entire conversation. Their first adventure together had united the group of travelers to one another forever, though many still carried their hidden secrets. It was nice to hear Abawken open up, and especially with Dulgin. Bridazak would keep this information to himself and let the two of them bond a bit closer, but he would also be looking out for this Devana. Her name was not unknown to him, and those who lived and breathed the underground life, as he once had, all knew it well—the name of a hired assassin.

V
eric was concerned. “The devling should have reported in by now.” Daysho folded his arms across his chest, “I told you, you should have sent me instead.”

“Then I would have been here telling my devling that Daysho should have reported in by now,” Veric snapped.

“I can tell you’re upset, Wizard, but you are in good company.”

“How so, Assassin?” Veric emphasized Daysho’s title mockingly.

The hooded killer smirked, “My contacts run deep, and I have word of your missing ship.”

“Well done. Where is it?”

“The deeper I go with my contacts, the deeper you will have to go in your coffers.”

“You people. You walk in delicate matters. I could destroy you where you stand, Daysho.”

“If word went out of your hasty reaction, then my network would be a formidable enemy. It would not be wise to turn your back on the Guild.”

Each man stared down the other. The wizard desperately needed the information his hired assassin had garnered.

Veric reluctantly said, “My apologies. You can understand my irritation.”

Daysho smiled, his perfect set of white teeth glowing under the veil of darkness inside his cowl. “Of course,” he mocked.

“Where is
A Pinch of Luck
located?”

“They left Pirate’s Belly yesterday, and sailed into the Whispering Sea.”

“Is that it? That’s all you have?”

“That I give you for free, but what I have next will cost you dearly, rest assured.”

“Fine, name your price, Thief,” Veric snarled, “I’m not used to having my pockets cleaned out as I stand by and watch.”

Daysho ignored the insult. “I was informed that they are retrieving an item.”

“Yes, we know, the blue stone.”

“Nay, not the blue stone. The Pearl of the Deep.”

“A pearl? Why?”

“Supposedly, it is one of the elements required to destroy the Dragon Stones.”

Veric cupped his hand around his chin, “Raina is craftier than I thought. Did they mention the blue stone?”

“Nay, there was no mention of it, only the pearl.”

“Interesting. Yasooma’s compass is leading them to his sunken ship, but they aren’t aware that is the location of the fifth stone as well.”

“That is my contact’s understanding.”

“If she doesn’t retrieve the stone, then we have to. Are you able to—”

Daysho interrupted, “Already done, a ship sails in their wake as we speak.”

Veric’s eyes narrowed, “You are very good at what you do Daysho, and worth every coin.” He grinned devilishly.

Whitecaps dotted the surface of the ocean as small waves broke. Howling wind filled the mighty sails of the four masted ship. Despite the heavy seas the two days since departing Pirate’s Belly, the galleon pushed its way forward to its destination.

Captain Elsbeth shouted over the roaring wind, “We are close.”

“Are you well, Elsbeth?” Raina asked.

“Yes. I remain apprehensive about going back.”

“I understand, but this time it will be different.”