Drutheira revelled in it. Her robes flapped about her.
‘This is the weapon!’ she crowed. ‘This is the weapon!’
Sevekai had no idea what she was talking about. He shrank back from the heat and the noise, just as all the others did.
An instant later the fires gusted out and something vast and dark surged up out of the chasm, rising on a tide of ruin, wreathed in oily smoke. With a twist and snap of immense jaws it ended Kaitar’s wretched screaming. A hard bang echoed around the vault, like a steel hammer falling on an anvil. Cracks shot across the walls and rubble rained down from above.
The creature kept rising, buoyed by an updraft as hot as a forge. Vast wings stretched out, bat-skin black and pierced with chains. Ophidian flesh snaked and coiled on itself in the flickering gloom.
‘You know me, creature!’ cried Drutheira. ‘You know what I am. Listen to me! The druchii have returned. Listen! We have come to reclaim what is ours.’
Sevekai looked on, unable to do anything but cower. A solid mass of curled, distorted black flesh loomed high up over them, hovering across the face of the chasm. Its hide glistened in the witch-light, reflecting from a thousand tight-woven scales. Ragged wings brushed against the shaft’s wall. He saw spines, curved teeth crowded along a jagged jawline and talons the length of an elf’s body. Gold chains, some broken, hung from an armoured torso, and iron runes had been branded and hammered into its flesh.
A dragon. A black dragon. One of Malekith’s own creations, as warped and ruined as anything to emerge from his embittered mind.
‘Your will is broken!’ shouted Drutheira, speaking in the tone of command she used when spellcasting. ‘Your mind is enslaved. You are ours, creature.’
The beast hissed at her, and flickers of blood-red flame danced across the void.
‘Do not resist!’ warned the sorceress. ‘You belong to the druchii. We never forget. We never release.’
That brought a sudden gush of flame and a roar that made the whole shaft shiver. Flames kept coming after that, guttering and snorting, breaking the murky darkness with a dull glow of crimson.
‘Serve me!’ commanded Drutheira, raising her staff fearlessly. ‘Serve me!’
The beast screamed back, but it did not attack. If it had chosen to it could have wiped her out just as it had consumed Kaitar. Its jaws opened and closed, revealing a long, lolling tongue the colour of burned iron. Its eyes – slits of silver – flashed furiously.
Sevekai saw the truth then: the powerful magicks that had cracked and twisted the creature’s mind still held. It would not attack. It writhed, snorted and flailed, but its fires stayed subdued.
Drutheira smiled savagely. ‘You know who your masters are. You sense us. You smell us.’
It screamed at her again, and echoes rang around the vault. Drutheira pointed the staff directly at it. ‘The wards are broken. When I call, you answer.’
The dragon’s wings thrashed, sending acrid air washing over the ledge. Its tail scythed, swishing in dumb frustration. Sevekai could only marvel at the imbalance: such a monster, held in check by a fragile, white-haired sorceress. Whatever magic had been used to crack the creature’s mind must have been of astounding strength.
‘Go!’ cried Drutheira, raising her arms. ‘Break out! Your will is mine! Your power is mine!’
The dragon coiled in on itself, writhing in a paroxysm of rage. Its eyes rolled, its jaws clamped shut.
Then it obeyed. With a clap of ebony wings it surged upwards, climbing fast. Sevekai saw then that the cavern had no roof – it was a shaft soaring upwards, carving through the heart of the mountain like an artery. The dragon ascended rapidly, lighting up the walls in a corona of red. The wind whistled in its wake, howling up out of the depths before falling, eventually, back into echoing silence.
Sevekai crept to the edge and risked a look down. He could barely make anything out, though the shaft stank of death. Hreth, lying next to him, gurgled weakly. His innards were visible between blood-drenched tatters of clothing.
Drutheira was breathing heavily and her pale cheeks were unusually flushed.
‘So what did you think?’ she asked, calling out to them over the gulf. ‘Magnificent, eh?’
Malchior scowled back, his expression dark. ‘You let it go.’
‘It’ll come when called. Unlike some, it is utterly faithful.’
Sevekai smiled wryly and got to his feet. Ashniel picked her way around the ledge toward Drutheira. ‘What now?’ she asked.
‘To the surface,’ the sorceress replied. ‘It will be waiting.’ As she spoke, the cavern shook again. The cracks that had opened after Kaitar’s death widened. ‘And we should hurry – this place is perilous now.’
Ashniel and Malchior hastened to follow her. Sevekai, following suit, felt the stone tremble under his feet.
‘Wait!’ called Hreth, dragging himself along the ledge. ‘Some help, brother?’
Sevekai glanced at him scornfully. Shameful enough to be defeated; bleating about it compounded the crime.
‘Sorry, brother,’ he replied coldly. ‘I think you would slow me down.’
More rumbles broke out, echoing dully from the depths. Sevekai broke into a jog, gliding surely across the uneven ledge surface. When he got to the tunnel entrance Malchior and Ashniel had already gone through, but Drutheira was waiting.
‘You planned it all?’ he asked her. ‘For Kaitar?’
Drutheira placed a finger on his lips. ‘Later, I promise. For now, trust me.’
Sevekai grinned. ‘Not an inch.’
More cracks opened up, snaking up the height of the chamber. A low growl welled up from the deeps, prising what remained of the pilasters from the rock walls.
‘We need to move,’ said Sevekai.
‘So we do.’
Drutheira slipped into the tunnel and hurried up the incline.
Sevekai took one last look at the chamber. Chunks of rock were beginning to fall freely, splitting from the mountain and tumbling into the shaft. Whether as a result of Drutheira’s magic or Kaitar’s violent death, the whole shaft was falling in on itself. Hreth still struggled on, stuck on his hands and knees as debris rained around
