“Aye,” Lord Gregory answered. “Why?”
“If we know what they think we are about, we can change our plans and regain the element of surprise,” the ever dutiful General said before walking away.
“Aye,” Lord Gregory replied with an unseen nod of respect. He wanted to say something that might ease the heartache the General was feeling, but he could think of no words that would help. “I’ll go to her immediately.”
“Lord Gregory,” General Spyra turned this time. His wet swollen face showed the depths of emotion he was feeling. He started to say more, but the look he saw on the Lion Lord’s face suggested that words were not necessary. They exchanged curt nods of understanding, and then Lord Gregory went to find his wife.
General Spyra scrunched up his face and roared through clenched teeth. After glancing at the young Valleyan guard, who was possibly dying on the floor, he kicked the marsh witch’s corpse in the face with sickening force. He let his sword fall from his grasp and clatter to the floor, then hurried away to find a private place where he could let loose his anguish without shaming himself further.
Chapter Fifty-Two
Hyden felt himself being lashed and pummeled, but the blows were nothing compared to the pain in his abdomen. He was falling, and the blackness around him was absolute. He couldn’t tell which way was up, which way was down, or if he was conscious or not. Even after he became oriented to the cold stone floor under him, he was confused. For what might have been moments, but could have been days, all sensation, save for pain, stopped for him. His agonized state was eventually disturbed by an insistent scuffing sensation along his arm. When he swatted at it, it responded with an irritated meow. Hyden’s eyes blinked open to see that he was still in darkness. He reached out with his mind and felt the warm prickly lyna that was trying to wake him.
Hyden couldn’t see the creature, but he remembered it from when it had woken him on the dungeon floor.
He felt chilled, and his skin turned to goose flesh. Strangely, he noticed that his gut didn’t feel as if it were on fire anymore. Further investigation reminded him that his muscles and tendons, and maybe even his blood, were saturated with venom. His hair felt like icy needles prickling into his scalp, and he began to shudder. He was weak. His body felt as if it were melting into mush from the inside out. He knew he should have been hungry. He hadn’t eaten in days, the thought of food made him retch and he went into a coughing fit that lasted far too long. By the time he had his breath again, he found he could make out subtle shades in the blackness. He sat with his knees drawn up into his arms for a long time, trying to gather his thoughts. The lyna wiggled up against him, content to preen and purr. Eventually, Hyden cast the little ball of light into his palm. Its dull glow barely illuminated his face, and he soon began to feel like some sort of bait, so he extinguished it. He closed his eyes and sought out Talon but couldn’t find his familiar. He tried to find the hawkling’s vision with his eyes open, and though Talon didn’t connect with him, he found that his eyes focused into a crisp sort of clarity, even in the darkness. He found that he could see the edges of himself and the shape of the lyna lying beside him. It wasn’t much, but it was something.
“We found the darkness, Spike,” he rasped to the creature. “Now it’s time to find the light. We have to hurry, though, the stuff inside me is going to melt me into a puddle.”
The fact that his voice didn’t reverberate reflected the vast emptiness he was in. As he stood, the lyna hunched and stretched. Hyden wanted to do the same, but was afraid he wouldn’t snap back into shape if he did. He slowly turned, peering into the emptiness, searching for a sign, or a glimmer of anything that might indicate which way he should go. As he looked, he wondered where his brother had gone and why he hadn’t killed him. He only vaguely remembered falling out of the garden yard and battling. He forced the thoughts out of his mind because he loved his brother fiercely. Thinking about him made him sad. He couldn’t afford to wallow in emotion. He could actually feel his body breaking down.
Spike saved him from having to choose a direction. The lyna raised his tail up high and, with a quick glance back, started off as if he knew exactly where he was going. Hyden shrugged and staggered after him. The direction was as good as any. The place, Hyden decided, was the definition of featureless.
They walked for a very long time. Hyden had to stop once due to another fit of coughing that had him spitting out coppery tasting chunks of phlegm. Then he leaned over and vomited out most of the liquid that was left in his body. After that he fell to a knee and vomited some more. His head spun so bad that, for a time, he forgot where he was. He recovered, though, and continued staggering after the lyna. Once, he heard something growling low, and far too near. He saw several pairs of ember eyes watching him from a distance, but he we was too ill to be afraid of them.
Suddenly, it seemed that the lyna was hovering over the smooth floor. Hyden looked on curiously until the sharp edges of a stairway defined themselves in his eyes. Spike was leading him upward. He hadn’t seen any sort of light down here so he gnashed his teeth together to bear the stress and started up after the lyna. The stairway circled ever upward and seemed to have no end. Hyden, drenched in his own fluids, and shivering with fever, climbed up them for what might have been forever.
Mikahl was somewhere over Westland riding on the back of his magical Pegasus when he spotted a big dark shape winging its way toward him. He was glad to see that Phen had found the dragon collar and was riding in the right direction. He reined the bright horse into a hover, and then let a wide crimson swath of magical energy burst up into the air as a beacon for the boy to see. The dragon banked and came toward him for a short time. Then suddenly it dove and sped away to the south. It was all Mikahl could do to keep up, much less gain on the sleek flying wyrm, but somehow the bright horse managed it. Mikahl saw that it wasn’t Phen on the dragon’s back. It was one of the red-robed priests he had seen gloating over him when he was incapacitated, and another rider. They were the ones who had set the trap for him and Princess Rosa. He decided that he didn’t want to miss the chance to eliminate such a formidable enemy. He urged the bright horse into a position above and slightly behind the powerful looking wyrm and then let loose a ripping streak of jagged yellow lightning at them. The crackling blast missed the riders, but tore a sizable hole in one of the dragon’s wings.
The wyrm roared out in pain and wheeled itself in a new direction. The priest sent a spiraling blue blast of energy back up at Mikahl, but Ironspike’s shields absorbed the attack. The bright horse might have been slightly faster than Vrot, but it wasn’t nearly as agile in the air. The young black dragon used his long sinuous body to turn and spin and sent a spewing blast of its sizzling acid breath over Mikahl. Once again the High King’s sword absorbed the attack, but the vapor of the corrosive stuff made his eyes fill with tears and took his breath away. By the time he could see again, the wyrm had carried the priest far to the south. Mikahl’s eyes were streaming and blurring. He knew that, even if he caught back up with it, the dragon could outmaneuver him. He could barely fight the pain in his lungs. He cursed as he was forced to circle his fiery steed down to the earth.
The bright horse was a magical extension of himself. It was manifested through Ironspike, but it wasn’t a real winged creature that could see, or act on its own accord. It couldn’t guide Mikahl if he couldn’t see. He didn’t have a choice, he told himself. Phen could remain invisible and hide awhile longer.
Mikahl was glad when he saw that he was coming down over the marshlands south of Westland. There was plenty of water there. All he could think about by the time he had his feet on not-so-solid ground was washing his stinging orbs. It was with great relief that he knelt along the spongy shoreline and finally splashed water onto his face. Luckily for him he still had Ironspike in his hand, because an explosion of water and teeth came lunging up at him and took him by suprise.
The winding stairway finally ended and another smooth expanse of blackness spread out in all directions. Another coughing session racked Hyden to the core, until he felt like he’d spat up half of his insides. He had to spend some time lying on the cold floor.
Soon the lyna was moving purposefully away again. Hyden struggled to follow and found confidence that at least Spike was going where he wanted to.
