Whill of Agora: Book 02 - A Quest of Kings (38 page)

Dirk danced away gracefully upon the red scales and weaved between the spikes. Roakore followed, hopping his hand from one spike to the other swiftly. Dirk threw a dart, and Roakore deflected it holding his ax in one hand. Again Dirk leapt from the dragon’s back and, this time, came around behind Roakore. He kicked the Dwarf hard, but it was a glancing blow that Roakore rolled with.

Dirk then engaged Roakore head on, his short sword and dagger singing in the gale in blurring motion. Roakore could not keep up with such speed and was put on his toes, barely avoiding the blows. He had Dirk right where he wanted him. Roakore laughed as he hopped back from an attack and his stone bird slammed into
Dirk’s shoulder. Dirk was hit with such force that he was thrown from Zhola’s back along with his line and dagger.

“Yeh didn’t see that one comin’, did ye, sneaky pants? Bwahaha!” Roakore sang after the falling assassin.

From Avriel’s back, Whill and Aurora watched as Dirk fell from Zhola and disappeared into the dark and twisted forest below.

Leave him to the dark forest
, came Azzeal’s voice in their minds. They flew on and followed Zhola, Azzeal, and Silverwind toward the cave.

Roakore turned his attention to Zhola. He believed the dragon to have been in league with the dirty assassin—he hadn’t attempted to kill the man, and Roakore had seen how Zhola had tried to shake Aurora. He clawed his way to the middle of the dragon’s shoulders and lifted his ax in a great strike.

The ax sunk deep into Zhola’s muscled left shoulder, and he gave out a groan of pain.

“Die, ye gods-damned fire demon!” Roakore bellowed as he retracted the blade and struck again.

Zhola banked hard left due to the blow, and Roakore held on for dear life. Zhola had only been flying fifty feet from the ground, and he now descended and landed quickly. Roakore wasted no time and climbed Zhola’s neck. With one hand, he held fast a spike as he braced his feet on others. He raised his great ax with a roar and was flung through the air with a snap of Zhola’s neck.

Roakore tumbled many times and slid to a halt. He was on his feet in a flash. Zhola reigned down flame in Roakore’s direction and furiously stomped toward him. Roakore could only run straight at the dragon and keep under the wall of fire.

In came the stone bird to slam into Zhola’s head, cracking scales. Roakore slammed his ax into Zhola’s ankle hard enough to make it sink deep. The dragon defensively dropped his entire weight down on Roakore’s head.

“Stop it!” Whill screamed at them both and leapt from Avriel as she landed. He rushed before Zhola and looked in horror at the ground under his belly.

“Get off him!” he yelled.

Black smoke rolled out of Zhola’s nostrils, and he bent to regard Whill. “I was attacked. He is mine to kill.”

“Get off of him,” Whill growled.

Zhola got dangerously close to Whill and snarled, “I have done my part; I am done with you all. Go to your fate, Whill of Agora; I hunt the assassin.”

He turned from them and took to the sky, revealing a hole in the ground. Whill rushed to the edge and peered inside. There, nearly six feet down in a circular indent in the ground, was a dazed Dwarf.

“Come quickly, Roakore; we must go.”

He lent a hand and pulled the Dwarf form the hole.

“The dragon was under the control of Dirk, you know; he was not our enemy.”

“Bah,” said Roakore as he dusted himself off. “He is a dragon, and they be mine enemies.” He looked to Avriel, who had heard him, and blushed. He straightened defiantly. “You ain’t no dragon, Avriel; you be an Elf. It ain’t your fault what was done to you.”

Soon they arrived at the cave. Aurora and Whill dismounted as did Roakore. Azzeal changed from bird to Elf form. Whill said the word, and the portal blazed to life. It hummed deeply and awaited its passengers. Everyone braced for whatever might come out from the other side. The dragons did not burst forth, nor did Eadon and his legions. They watched and waited for many minutes, but still nothing came.

“Dirk somehow spoke to Eadon. He knows where we went, and he very well may be waiting,” Whill told the others.

“Bah, let ’em come. We got the Elf blade now, so let ’em come,” Roakore piped in as he danced on the balls of his feet.

“I will go first,” said Aurora, eager to prove herself further still. “If anything lurks beyond the portal, I will report it.”

“Bah! I ain’t havin’ no woman goin’ into danger afore I be! Step aside, lass.”

Roakore stormed toward the portal and walked right through. Aurora cursed the Dwarf king and said to Whill, “Can’t you keep him on a leash?” She then rushed after the fearless Dwarf.

Azzeal, Whill, Silverwind, and Avriel waited for a long while. Finally Roakore hopped through the portal with a grin. “The way be quiet.”

Through the portal they went, and indeed, the chamber beyond was quiet. They made their way back up to the surface without incident. But there at the mouth of the cave awaited an army. They all came to a grinding halt at the mouth of the cave. There, upon the scorched earth beyond the volcano’s mouth, stood Eadon, and next to him stood his Dragon-Hawk. He wore his cloak of Silverhawk feathers, and in his right hand, he held Nodae, his blade, the sword of power taken.

Upon Whill’s belt, the blade Adromida jolted, and the light within the diamond at the hilt danced and pulsed. It hummed steadily as it came to such a close proximity to its opposite. Eadon outstretched his left hand and bade Whill. “Resistance is futile, Whill. Fulfill your destiny, and take up the blade Adromida.”

Behind him stood twenty armored Draquon; each one carried a trident. Beyond them waited the dragons of Drakkar.

“We should retreat back through the portal,” said Aurora with trepidation in her voice. “This foe is beyond us.”

“No,” said Whill confidently, and he walked forward toward Eadon.

“Whill!” growled Avriel. “You are not ready for this.”

Whill stopped and turned to face her with watery eyes. “Will I ever be?” To the others he warned, “Be ready to fly.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

Convergence

W
ith a hand upon the sheath of Adimorda, Whill planted his feet and faced Eadon. A grin spread across the Dark Elf’s face, and his eyes glowed with fiery light.

Whill dared not strike Eadon, lest the story of Kellallea be true; neither did he think that he had the skill to beat Eadon, no matter the great power within Adimorda. He needed to buy them time to escape. He did not let his fear and doubt show upon his face.

“I have found the blade. It is over; concede defeat and I will spare your life.”

Eadon’s laughter shook the ground beneath them, and his smile of victory only widened. Whill could hear the hum of power emanating from Nodae. To his army, Eadon commanded, “Kill them all!”

Hundreds of dragons took to the sky, and many others charged across the ground. The Draquon gave ear-piercing cries of bloodlust and charged as well. Eadon
remained where he was, the wind of his charging army blowing his long, white hair forward.

The sun began to rise beyond the volcano as Whill faced the oncoming army. “Azzeal! Shield them, and see them away safely.”

Whill then reached for Adromida as the charging horde closed to within a few hundred yards. Dragons and Draquon alike swooped down upon them from on high. Whill’s hand closed around the hilt of the ancient sword of legend. In that moment, Whill accepted his destiny and gave into the great, slumbering power of the blade.

Power coursed through his body and threatened to consume him with its blinding force. He fought to command control over the sword’s power, and it yielded to him at once. He opened his eyes and watched as the charging army advanced, moving impossibly slow. Time blurred, and Whill found himself floating five feet from the ground, holding the sword high above his head with both hands. From him shone bright blue light, which radiated outward in electrified tendrils and pure energy. The lightning melded with Azzeal’s conjured energy shield and strengthened it tenfold.

Whill screamed against the torrent of pulsing power and plunged Adimorda into the volcano’s surface. There was a deafening boom and an explosion of power, which was quickly swallowed by the glowing wound upon the ground. Whill pumped incredible amounts of energy down into the huge well of lava below.

The ground began to quake as time returned to normal, and the advancing army slowed as one before the great power. The ground shook so violently that everything with wings fled to the sky. The volcano exploded with such force that Whill’s companions were shot into the sky at breakneck speeds. Azzeal’s shield wavered but held against the ocean of lava that surrounded them.

Dragons and Draquon alike were disintegrated in midair, and the rest were blown far and wide as the volcano spewed forth its molten destruction. Whill stood within his energy shield scowling at Eadon, who did the same. The Dark Elf advanced so quickly that Whill had no time to react. Eadon slammed into Whill’s shield with so much force that Whill was thrown back into the mouth of the cavern.

Eadon was upon him in an instant. Whill parried Eadon’s blows; he fought only defensively, not daring to strike the Dark Elf. Whill formulated a plan quickly in his mind. If he could get Eadon through the portal, there might be a chance of escape. The cavern was quickly falling apart all around them as the volcano violently continued to spew its contents. Whill attempted to stall Eadon.

“What do you promise in return if I give you the power of Adromida?” he screamed over the thunderous commotion of the exploding volcano. Eadon let up on his attack and regarded Whill with a wide smile.

“You shall be my second; you will have all that you ever wished. You will be king of all of Agora, answerable only to me. I will return Avriel to her true form, and your friends will be left in peace,” Eadon answered.

Whill reached up with his hand and mentally pulled the ceiling down upon the head of the Dark Elf. Wasting no time, he turned and ran faster than he ever had. Through the cavern and down the stairs he flew. Behind him, there was a great explosion and the scream of Eadon.

“There is nowhere to run, boy! Swear fealty to me, or you shall know suffering beyond imagination.” Eadon’s voice shook the very stone and followed Whill down the stairs and into the portal chamber. Whill quickly spoke the name, and the portal came to life. He turned to see Eadon actually flying toward him down the stairs. With a scream, the Dark Elf flung a fireball at Whill, which closed the distance between them too quickly for Whill to dodge. He poured more energy into his shield as the fireball exploded against it. Whill was blasted through the portal and continued through the cave on the other side and was blown clear over the ledge.

Whill screamed as he fell hundreds of feet to the blackened surface of Drindellia below. He instinctively shot his hands out toward the ground as it rushed up to crush him, and to his utter amazement, he stopped dead in his fall, mere feet from the ground. He floated there for a moment, marveling at what he had just
done, when suddenly the cliff above him exploded in a rain of fire and fell toward him.

Whill tapped deeper into the seemingly endless well of power within the blade and shot himself forward through the air. He flew out over the plagued land and stole a glance behind him. Eadon was flying through the air toward him and gaining. Whill poured more power into his flight and ascended into the sky, shooting straight up. Eadon followed, laughing manically all the while.

They flew through the gray cloud cover and shot up into the clear sky. Drindellia’s sun had not yet set, and the brightness of it was at first blinding compared to the dreary world below the clouds. A blast of lightning hit Whill’s circular energy shield and smashed through it. Whill was jolted by the hit, and his entire body screamed in pain. His concentration did not waver, however, and he quickly healed himself of the wound and shot faster into the darkening sky.

Whill flew so high that the sky began to darken and stars twinkled to life above him. Eadon came on faster than before, bearing down on Whill with his sword leading. Whill changed direction and flew across the sky. He looked down upon the world in amazement as he saw the curve of it. Looking behind him, he knew that he could not keep the distance between himself and Eadon. The Dark Elf had the same amount of power within his blade, if not more, and he surely had more experience flying.

Whill changed course and began to descend once again. Eadon kept pace with him easily and even began to catch up.

“There is nowhere to run, nowhere to fly! Face your fate, boy!” Eadon screamed over the howling wind.

Zhola was distracted from his tracking of Dirk by two streaks of light, which shot through the gray clouds above him. He raised his head to regard the strange sight and knew it to be Whill and Eadon. They blew through the clouds with such speed as to bring with them a funnel of swirling cloud. Thunder rang out as the chasing form shot lightning at the fleeing one. Zhola knew then that Whill had tapped into the power of the blade and he was in dire trouble.

Whill was hit yet again by lightning, and this time his concentration wavered and he lost control of his flight. He managed to level out enough to not plow straight into the ground, but he still came in too fast. The world below him blurred by as he braced for impact. He hit the ground like a meteor, sending dirt and trees and stone alike flying hundreds of feet into the air. His shield saved him from the impact, but he was jarred so hard that he lost consciousness for a moment.

Eadon landed gracefully where Whill had hit and purposefully walked the few hundred yards toward him. Whill got to his feet and tapped into the blade once
more to strengthen his shield. Eadon let out a scream of rage, and from his hand shot a twisted and writhing beam of dark energy three feet wide. The dark spell slammed into Whill’s shield and pierced it easily. It hit Whill in the chest, and he was helpless to defend himself. His first instinct was to strike back at Eadon, but he would not.

Do it
! His mind screamed, and he almost complied. He realized quickly that his mind was being invaded. He fought the intrusion and tried again to bring up his shield—anything to stop the horrible pain that wracked his body and mind.