evaporated most of her concoction. It was a costly mistake, one that she was doing her best to compensate for.
“Run, and get a hundred more Zard here, as swiftly as possible,” she ordered a bug-eyed, green scaled archer. “Have some others bring a geka – two, if they can manage to get them here.”
“Yes, Masteress,” the lizard man responded, before scampering away gratefully on his long webbed feet.
She hated to sacrifice so many here, but the egg, and the bargain with Pael, was paramount to the larger scheme of things. He had the Staff of Malice, and she had to have it to free the breed beasts that King Balton had imprisoned at Coldfrost. She needed those huge savages to help her hold what she was about to take. Pael needed the dragon out of its lair, so that he could access the ancient Seal that the beast had been guarding. Now that the pact that had bound the dragon to guard the Seal had been broken, she could trick it into service by threatening one of the eggs. It was a complex plan, and she was dancing on a delicate, and razor-sharp edge here. She might have scrapped the plan because the loss of Zards was going to be so great, but now Gerard’s safety had factored itself into the equation. She had no choice but to feed the great wyrm bits of her army a few at a time until Gerard got an egg down to Cole. Only then, would she attempt to get the situation back under her control.
Thinking about the greater plan, and all that had gone into preparing for what was to come, she conceded that she might have to give Gerard to Pael, but only if it became necessary. The cold and relentless fury of the dragon was rubbing off on her. She loved Gerard, but she was a sorceress of the dark arts, and she knew that if she wanted to have all that she desired, she had better start acting like one.
A roaring blast of heat sent her scrambling to the side. Luckily, it was aimed at the dragon’s main course and not at her. The Zard weren’t faring too well. Their swords were useless, as were mere arrows. There was only one way to end the dragon’s tirade, and the only way she could get it done was to keep it here, distracted from its lair. The icy resolve she had found gave her strength. A human man’s fleeting life could never really come between her and all that she had worked so hard for. At least she hoped it couldn’t.
The dragon, after tearing another huge slab of scorched meat from the snapper carcass, raised her head and wolfed the morsel down. As Shaella gained her feet again, Cole scrambled across part of the clearing towards her. All the while, the great wyrm swiped and lashed its treacherous tail at the Zard, as if they were only flies disturbing its meal.
“Flick says that he’s in the cavern,” Cole said, in a way that showed his surprise and respect of the speed of Gerard’s climb.
“You should go then! He could already be lowering the egg!”
She had to yell over the dragon’s rumbling growl. Her voice was full of equal parts of apprehension, worry and excitement. Cole pretended not to notice.
“What a waste it would be if a snapper were to snatch the egg up as soon as it was floating in the swamp,” she added, in an attempt to hurry him.
“I’m off then,” Cole responded, and began casting the spell that would take him where he needed to go. Just before he began to shimmer away, she stopped him.
“Return just as soon as you have it!”
Her voice had become hard and commanding. “No matter the cost!” she added.
Cole’s response was a slight smile and a knowing nod, as his form wavered and faded from the clearing.
The dragon roared again, and reared up as if it were about to leap into flight. A cold chill of horror ripped through Shaella. She couldn’t let it leave yet. Not now, not when they were so close. She spun around, searching for the replacements she had sent for. They were nowhere to be seen. Only a handful of the lizard men that had started this with her were left, and they were hiding at the edges of the clearing. Unable to think of another option, she drew her sword and charged out into the feeding ground, waving her pale yellow magical blade around crazily. She screamed out challenges and curses in an old tongue, a language that the great wyrms were supposed to understand.
It was a gamble born of desperation. She hoped that she could draw the beast’s attention and keep it there. When the dragon cocked its head and eyed her with curious fury, she felt her knees turn to water. Suddenly, she found that she wished it had flown away, that it would fly away now. As it pulled its wings back and lowered its head towards her, the great beast drew in a long, slow breath.
Shaella couldn’t help but ask herself the obvious question. “What was I thinking?”
Chapter 28
The dragon’s lair was a deep, bubble-like pocket which swelled off to one side of the huge wormhole. It was lit by the sun shining into the eastern mouth of the tunnel. The bright rays illuminated over half of the rocky passage’s floor. From the opening in the western face, where Gerard was standing, it was less than two hundred paces across to the gaping sunlit maw on the other side. Piles of bones, from creatures both large and small, were scattered among the rubble. The horrid smell of decaying flesh would have been unbearable had there not been the natural breezeway caused by the wormhole, continually drawing in fresh air while venting the foul.
Gerard started into the dragon’s lair. The only thoughts in his mind were to get in, lower the egg out the other side, then climb back down, and do it all quickly. To keep his fear, or any other distracting emotion from creeping in and getting a hold of him, he repeated those thoughts over and over again. Get in, lower the egg, climb down, and hurry.
He made his way to where the cavern opened up into the actual dragon’s lair. It wasn’t easy. He had to climb over several odd shaped pieces of broken stone, and had to wiggle his way between others. He had to hold down his bile while climbing over a wet, matted tangle of hair, bone and gore.
Some of the skeletons he saw were alarmingly large. Others were undoubtedly human. One was still covered in rusted and crushed armor. A series of fist sized holes ran in a line across the breast plate. Teeth marks, Gerard thought, and then he shivered.
He spotted the eggs easily enough: three of them. They were in a shadowy nook at the back of the lair, nestled in a pile of animal hides that had been crudely thrown over a bowl-shaped pile of bones.
“I guess dragons don’t like to sit on their nests like hawklings do,” he said the thought out loud.
The sound of his voice was comforting. In the back of his mind, he repeated his mantra again. Get in, lower the egg, climb down, and hurry.
On his way across the rank, musty lair to retrieve one of the eggs, he noticed something peculiar. The cavern bottom here wasn’t rough and rocky: it was level like a floor. After further examination, he found that it actually was a floor. It had to be. It was perfectly smooth. It even had a design carved into it. Most of the circular inscription was buried under bones and scree, but he could see its center. The dust filled grooves were a finger’s breath wide, and easily as deep. A circle, twice as big as a wagon-wheel, framed a strange symbol. Around it there were other, smaller symbols, like ancient writing. These went all the way around the inner-ring. There was another ring outside that. It reminded him of an archery target, only with a strange symbol for its Wizard’s Eye. Sure enough, a few feet farther across the floor, he saw yet another ring that shared the same center as the others. He found himself staring at the markings, as if he were momentarily hypnotized.
Get in, lower the egg, climb down, and hurry, his mind screamed, snapping him out of his daze.
“Get the egg, lower it down, then get out,” he said the words aloud, and kept repeating them, as he moved to the nest.
The eggs were the size of summer melons, and when he hefted one into his arms, he realized that lowering this thing wasn’t going to be quick and easy. It weighed about as much as a full sack of grain.
“This is going to take some doing,” he mumbled under his breath.
He had to keep his mind on track. He kept feeling the urge to go back and stare at the strange markings carved into the floor, but his fear of the dragon, and of failing Shaella, kept him from it.
He carefully carried the egg out of the lair. It was no easy task, getting over and around the rough bottom of the wormhole, without the use of his hands and arms to steady himself. More than once, he stumbled and nearly
