When Cole looked up again, he saw that the egg had been lowered a considerable distance. He stared up at it from the drifting canoe for a long time, before he realized that it had stopped coming down. It was just hanging there a few hundred feet above him, swinging slightly with the breeze.
Suddenly, Cole was alarmed. His mind raced through the myriad possibilities that could have forced Gerard to stop lowering it: injury, not enough rope, a tangle, or another creature might have been lurking up there. He was just about to panic, when the egg lurched down a few feet, causing his heart to jump up into his throat. As he tripped through possible spells that might help the situation, the egg started gliding down slowly and smoothly, as if it had never stopped.
Cole cursed his stupidity, not only for letting his brain run rampant with foolish fears, but for not telling Gerard that he could have dropped the egg once it was this far down. Cole had a number of spells that would slow its fall. He could even make it to drop right into his boat, or slowly levitate it down to the water so he could scoop it up on his way back to the island. He shook his bald head while he waited for the lowering egg. So much for perfect planning.
Gerard had never in all of his life felt as relieved as he did the moment the rope in his hands went slack. The brief reprieve he gained by looping the rope around one wrist for a short while, and then the other to rest his arms, had been probably the smartest thing he could have done. As it was, he would have to rest his upper body, and let the circulation begin flowing again in his legs, before he could start his climb back down. Even though there was a voice in the back of his head screaming that he was out of time, there was no choice in the matter. He wanted to start his descent, but he knew that his body wasn’t ready yet.
He ate the dried snake-meat he had packed, and sipped from the remaining water skin, all the while listening to his panicky subconscious warnings. The dragon is coming back to roast you for your thievery! If you don’t leave now, the beast will catch you on the rock face, and char you to a crisp!
After he finished the meat, he shouldered the pack and headed back across the cavern. The food seemed to have energized him, and he stopped at the lair to consider an idea. As he stood there, looking at the rune marked floor, and the unnatural smoothness of it, the words of the old crone came to him in his mind.
“You will find the power you seek in the depths of the dragon spire,” she had said – or something to that effect. He found himself looking around for a tunnel, or hidden stairway that let down into the formation, but there was nothing to see. He laughed at his foolishness, and began stretching his back and arms. He squatted, and pushed himself back up with his legs a few times, while holding his arms straight out before him as he did so.
He was feeling much better now. He was glad that the first half of his descent was so easy to make. He really wouldn’t need his arms, until the lower part of the rock face, where it became almost a sheer drop. He was confident again, now that his body had recuperated, that he could make the journey down without faltering. He was feeling so confident, in fact, that he decided to act on the idea he had just had.
He would bring down another egg in his pack. The eggs were heavy, but not any more so than the coils of rope he had carried up with him. He became excited. Oh, how Shaella would be pleased with him when he gave her the second egg. He could only imagine how this night would be spent. She would be doubly happy, and he would get doubly rewarded.
He wasted no time getting the pack open as he gained the nest. It took some effort to squeeze the egg into the pack because its girth was as wide as the pack’s opening. The egg was so big, that part of it stuck up out of the pack, but that was alright.
HURRY! The voice in his head screamed at him. The dragon’s coming back any moment now! That was all right too, Gerard told the voice. I’ve got it, I’m done, I am out of here! With a triumphant smile on his face, he shouldered the pack and turned to go.
He was thinking how easy this had been, and how light the pack felt on his shoulders, when a figure shimmered into being directly in front of him. For a fleeting moment, he thought that it was Cole, but the evil grin on the pale, bald-headed man’s face told him he was mistaken. It was the ghastly, white-skinned older man from the vision he had seen back in the old fortune teller’s tent.
In the wizard Pael’s left hand was a gnarled, old wooden staff with a head-sized crystal mounted at its crown. On his face was the most confident of snarls, and in his eyes there was something far more certain than death.
Gerard was so utterly stunned by Pael’s appearance, that he didn’t even feel the dagger the creepy wizard had thrust into his chest, until Pael twisted it, and laughed at him with manic glee.
Chapter 29
The dragon was fierce and quick, but it seemed to enjoy playing the cat to Shaella’s mouse. It gleefully toyed with the brave little girl, who wielded the insignificantly magical sword, and more than a few times intentionally kept from killing her out of sheer curiosity.
Shaella spun, twirled, dived and twisted out of the way of the dragon’s razor-sharp claws, its whip-like tail, and its fiery maw so many times now that she exhausted herself. She was certain the beast could have destroyed her at any time. She was glad that it let her survive long enough for her reinforcements to arrive. It was their turn to occupy the beast now. She had to catch her breath.
Some of the new Zardmen were already running into the clearing. When she saw them, she wasted no time getting herself into the cover of a clump of trees, so that she could rest. She stumbled, more than ran as she went. The dragon, with new mice to play with now, would hopefully stay around a little while longer. Cole would have the egg soon, she hoped. Then the tables would turn, and she would get to be the cat. For the moment though, she was content to just sit against a tree trunk, and breathe.
She felt a sharp pain across her scalp above her right ear. She went to investigate the sensation with her fingers, and found a big, watery blister, where her hair should have been. After a moment of vain panic where her hands frantically touched every inch of her skull, she cursed the dragon’s very existence. Her once beautiful raven black heir was a ruin.
From her right temple, straight back over her ear, and down to her neck, her hair was gone. Her scalp was a hot, puffy blister, her ear was raw, scorched around its edges, and the shoulder of her custom armored leather vest was ruined beyond repair. The sleeve on that side of her shirt was nearly burned away. All that remained was the cuff, and some tatters. The rest of her head seemed to be alright though. She didn’t care about the wounds, or the terrible pain they caused. Her only concern was how she would look to her Zard soldiers and her lover. She could deal with it, she decided. She had lived with a tear drop scar running down her cheek for years now.
The screeching, skittering sound of a big geka lizard, rose over the general clamor of the tussle briefly. Shaella turned to see it fighting the Zard, who were trying to lead it into the clearing, for the dragon. The dragon heard it, and flung out its massive wings, sending blast of concussive wind blowing through the area.
Shaella felt it in her chest. Without standing, she peeked around the side of the tree trunk to see what was happening. Panic swept over her as the dragon jumped into flight. “NOOO!” she screamed. Not now! Not when we’re so close.
She had to twist her head, and roll away from the tree, to see where it had gone. She forced herself to her feet. She had to go back out into the clearing to get a better view, because the gargantuan, red scaled beast had disappeared from her sight completely. Once in the clearing, she half stumbled, half fell back to the ground. One of the studs on her armored vest gouged the blister on the side of her head when she landed. She felt warm liquid running down her neck and back, but she ignored it. The relief of seeing the wyrm again overcame all other sensations.
Apparently, the potion she had splashed on the snapper meat was starting to take effect after all. The dragon, half flying, half skipping like a drunken sailor, was stumbling, and crashing through the trees, trying to get to the terrified geka. It growled, hissed, and sent jets of flame out of its cavernous nostrils at random. Trees snapped and fell, some of them roots and all, under the beast’s massive hind claws. Had the jungle been any less wet, it would have been consumed in flames by now. As it was, the foliage on and around several trees was smoldering, sending up dark, roiling plumes of smoke into the sky.
The geka had gotten its lead ropes tangled during its thrashing panic, and was pulling frantically, trying to
