The dragon-blooded beast that had once been Gerard Skyler was angry. He’d lost the ring. His long clawed finger stretched it to its limit, and in some recent battle it must have snapped off and clanked away into the endless darkness. He couldn’t even say how long it had been missing.
It wasn’t a necessary thing for him. Its magic was puny compared to his, but he coveted it. Gerard’s twisted power had grown exponentially. Blistering magical attacks, stout defensive shields, and tricky illusionary castings now came to his mind when he was trying to kill. The things he had consumed, Kraw, and both halves of Shokin, along with a dozen or more of the lesser devils and demons, all chanted the incantations on his behalf. They would protect their host vehemently, but while they were a boon in battle, the rest of the time his mind was filled with arguments and psychotic babbling. At the moment, the intensity of his rage had stilled them. He’d lost the ring.
He let out a raging roar of frustration, letting a long jet of flame blast from his maw. He then sent a great crackling bolt of crimson lightning streaking through the blackness. He’d searched for what could have been ages, but hadn’t been able to find his prize.
There were many things in this hell that were equal to his power, and thousands upon thousands of hell-spawned creatures that feared him, but there was one dark hulking monster that was greater than him: Deezlxar, the Abbadon, the dark master of hell. The demons of Gerard’s mind whispered that Deezlxar had found his ring and kept it. Gerard searched the carcasses of every kill he could remember. He scoured the endless brimstone plane interrogating the lesser things and challenging the others. Some fled, some fought and died. Those were consumed hungrily. Some of them sent him this way or that with lies manufactured to buy themselves distance from the powerful malformed creature that he was. Every path he followed led to more frustration, until there was nothing left to do, save confront Deezlxar.
Demons were born into a hierarchy. Some were just more powerful than others. Shokin’s essence told him this. Devils had a hierarchy as well, but they weren’t born into it. This he gathered from Kraw. He was neither demon, nor devil, yet he was both. He was human, and dragon too. He was a god in his own right, and the urge to challenge the Abbadon was growing. He would have his ring back, even if he had to devour the master of hell and order every inhabitant of this blackened place to search it out for him. He wasn’t part of a hierarchy. He wasn’t created to serve. He’d fed on the yolk of a fire dragon’s egg and was transformed. The power he possessed was power he took from others. He wasn’t subject to the laws of the hells. He wasn’t like any other entity that was trapped here.
Some of the denizens of the dark had taken to following him; they listened to his ramblings of the gateway, and they often did his bidding. These lesser demons went out in search of the ring, but only brought back tales of Deezlxar.
Gerard found himself searching for ways to go deeper into the planes of hell. He would find this Deezlxar and learn what the Abbadon was about. Thoughts of the ring, and the mighty evil that had stolen it from him, consumed Gerard. He came upon a great circular stairway that led down into a more potent blackness. Shaella’s sweet voice was the only thing that stopped him from going down. She was calling to him again.
He forced the chaos in his mind away and responded to her. In his mind’s eye he could see her sprawled on her great bed. He saw that she wasn’t clad in seductively revealing silks this time. She was wearing a leather riding dress that was stretched open across her abdomen, hip-high leather boots, and a high collared riding cloak, that almost hid the controlling collar she wore like a choker, finished off the imposing look. She seemed as she had when he first met her at the Summer’s Day Festival; strong, confident, ready to conquer anything that stood before her.
How long ago had that been? His brain couldn’t reach back that far. The part of him that was still Gerard was fading. Gerard’s memories had been trampled into oblivion, but nothing could remove his longing for Shaella. Her voice, and her presence in his mind, is what drove the chaos away. She was as deeply embedded into his being as the urge to breathe.
“Oh, Gerard,” she said happily, almost cheerfully, to him. Neither emotion seemed to reach its way through his gloom. “My wizard, Flick, has brought me the Silver Skull. I have it.” She sat up on the bed excitedly. “And a dragon, my love; he gifted me with another dragon to replace the one your brother stole from me.”
“Brother?” Gerard rasped deeply. A flicker of a memory, of laughing with a black-haired boy while some giant woman told them a tale, shimmered away. A feeling of his love for Hyden almost formed, but his twisted brain came around to what else Shaella had said, and all that was forgotten. “You have Zorellin’s skull?”
“Yes, my love,” she cooed. “The red priests are preparing to open the way for you now, this night, at the peak of darkness.” She looked around, suddenly distraught. “It’s midmorning now, my love. In just hours there will be a way for you to come back to me.”
He looked at his hand, at the long dark finger where the ring should be, and growled. “Not this night,” he rasped. “I have one more feast to attend before I can come give you the world.”
Shaella deflated at the words. Her excited eyes pooled with tears. The idea that being with her wasn’t the most important thing to him was like a knife in her breast. A deep wound that sent ripples of uncertainty through her. The first tears she could ever remember crying spilled down her cheeks. “What is it that would keep you from me?” she asked in a cautiously controlled tone.
“If I were to come to you this moment, love, I could give you the earth to rule,” he told her. No matter how malformed he was, with his elongated, almost snouted head, plated brows, and ropey hair, his eyes were still Gerard’s. The devilish look in them pierced into her and set a fire in her belly. “If you can wait until I finish this, I will make you the queen of hell, and earth. Then we can make the heavens tremble in fear, together.”
She had no designs to rule hell and earth. She wasn’t that concerned with ruling Westland. Oh, the times she would have traded her kingdom just to have him with her again. His deep voice, intense eyes, and his hot slick promises, had rekindled her fire.
“How long must I wait?” she asked breathlessly. Her tears were distant memories, the doubts forgotten, like clouds blown on the wind.
“Not long,” he said gruffly. “Have my priests open a portal this night. I will come to you for a time. Have your binding spells ready. I will bring you a taste of what is to come.”
Phen woke to the itchy, almost painful abrasion of Sticka’s nettles. Spike lay nearby, sprawled with glazed eyes and an overfull belly. Immediately, Phen began to panic. He didn’t know what time of day it was, but he knew he’d slept far longer than he’d intended.
“What time is it?” he asked the lyna, realizing how foolish a question it was to ask a prickly cat.
“Something happens soon,” Sticka conveyed to Phen with uncanny clarity. “The Queen’s master comes.”
Phen gave Spike a glare and went off to find a window so that he could assess the time of day. On the way he nabbed part of an uneaten meal from a cart. When he was finally able to follow one of the priests out into the garden, he saw that it was only afternoon. There would be time for panic later. A surge of frightened energy snaked up his spine. He decided right then he was going to try and grab the skull.
The priests were burning a great symbol inside a circle in an open space of the lawn. It was a seal, or a gateway symbol, Phen knew from his studies. He found it easy to slip across the yard and into the curtained gazebo. If the skull had been there, he could’ve gotten away with it, but it was nowhere to be found. Phen figured that Cole still had it. He had a mind to alter the symbol the priests were burning into the lawn, thus changing their spell. All it would take was an extra mark or two. He decided that he might make things worse by tampering. Before Master Targon died, he’d preached about the consequences of such actions. There was still time, so Phen decided to try another tactic. If Queen Shaella was readying herself for Gerard, then maybe her dragon’s collar was lying about her chamber somewhere.
Phen hadn’t seen the dragon since Shaella returned, but it was the talk of the castle staff. Eavesdropping as he moved invisibly through the castle searching for Shaella’s apartment, Phen heard all sorts of rumors. After wasting an hour looking, and learning nothing, he went back to the pantry and coaxed Sticka into showing him where Shaella slept. Spike had digested his meal by then and was eager to come along.
Sticka led them up a circular flight of steps to the castle’s second level, then down a long wide hall that was lined with statues spaced evenly along the walls. Huge tapestries and paintings of landscapes were centered between the statues. Phen noticed that the scenery was deceptively lifelike. It was like looking out of a window instead of at pigmented oils on canvas or woven threads. A great waterfall in one of them formed a cloud of misty spray that seemed to radiate off the canvas. Another was of a pasture of sheep. When Phen looked directly at it everything was still, but from the corners of his eyes he would swear that he saw the sheep gnawing at the grass. After careful inspection he saw that some of the artworks were signed. He knew immediately that the names were elven. He cast a spell to detect magic on the painting before him, and was pleased that his instinct was right. He made a mental note to look into the type of magic it would take to paint such a vision. It would have to be a potent spell to last thousands of years.
The big oak double doors at the end of the hall suddenly parted. Queen Shaella looked out with narrowed brows. Phen realized that he’d made a stupid mistake casting his spell. The look in her eyes told him that she sensed it. There was nothing he could do about it, though, because he was captivated by her beauty. She was naked, save for a towel that was wrapped around her waist. Her dark wet hair hung down over her breast on the side that wasn’t scarred. Her nipples were the size of coins, and even though he was terrified, Phen couldn’t peel his eyes away from them.
“Who dares to disturb…” Shaella started, but she stopped when her eyes found the two lyna pacing in the hall.
A bit of movement from the statue at one side of Shaella’s door drew Phen’s attention. It was still now, but he thought that the hand had reached to the hilt of its sword.
“Fslandra!” Shaella yelled over her shoulder.
From behind her, the zard girl appeared, looking as sheepish as a bulbous-eyed lizard girl could look.
“Yes, Masteress?” Fslandra hissed in some strange version of the common tongue.
“It seems your Sticka has found a suitor,” Shaella’s eyes scanned the hall again, looking for what it was that had alarmed her. “The two of them must have been making magic,” Shaella joked without a smile. She spoke the words of a detection spell but nothing triggered a reaction. If she’d cast the spell a few seconds sooner she would have seen Phen running as fast as he could to get out of her entry hall. He was certain the statue moved, and he remembered that Shaella was more than just a queen with a dragon. She was a sorceress- Pael’s daughter no less. The statues were probably magicked guardians or the like. Either way, he didn’t plan on approaching her apartments that way again. His heart was still hammering in his chest so hard that he thought his ribcage might burst. The curve of her body had been so distracting that he didn’t even remember if she’d been wearing the dragon collar or not. When he was far enough away from her room that he felt he could relax, he leaned against a wall and gathered himself. I have to have patience, he told himself. He wondered if Spike had escaped the hall. As he went back to the pantry he called out to his familiar to find out.
Later that night, when Phen was able to slip back into the garden again, he found he was too late to get at the skull. He couldn’t just open and close doors by himself. He had to wait on someone and creep in with them. The scene he saw was worrisome at best. He didn’t think that there was any way he could stop the ceremony the red priests were preparing to perform. The skull was already in its place on the lectern, and both of Shaella’s bald-headed wizards were conferring over something in the gazebo. A filthy young woman was half hidden behind them. Her hands were tied together with rope. The three red-robed priests, and a few other men wearing black robes, were scurrying about lighting candles and placing different items about the garden. Then came the Dragon Queen.
“Who brought her down here?” Shaella snapped sharply from the balcony above. At first Phen thought she was falling over the rail, but the smooth way she floated down in her flowing silk gown reminded him of the power she possessed.
When her bare feet were on the ground she started toward the filthy girl. Phen realized then that it was Princess Rosa. The only parts of her that weren’t covered in grime were the twin streaks of white below her eyes where her tears had been running.
In answer to the Queen’s question, Flick pointed at the priests and shrugged.
“Answer me, man,” Shaella ordered one of the red-robed necromancers. “Why was the Princess brought here?”
“If the High King comes to save her during our ceremony,” he answered nervously, “we wouldn’t be able to spring the trap. She must remain in sight until the portal has been closed. To do otherwise would risk losing her while our attention is focused here.”
Phen decided that Princess Rosa was more important than the skull. As the ceremony began, he worked his way over to where Flick and Cole were standing. Phen noticed Cole looked tired and sickly. His eyes were set into deep dark sockets. Shaella’s body shone through her gown as if the material wasn’t even there, yet no eyes lingered on her. She began casting a spell, and implored Flick and Cole to join her.
Phen recognized the nature of the binding wards they began to recite. He almost cast a spell of his own, but was scared that he would alarm the menacing sorceress or her wizards.
“Shhh, Princess,” Phen whispered from right behind Rosa.
“Who’s theere?” she yelped. “Don’t touch me, troll!”
Flick looked back at her and scowled. “Silence,” he hissed sharply. “No one is going to harm you this night.”
“Shhh,” Phen whispered again after Flick went back to his casting. “You’ll get me caught.”
Rosa looked around wide-eyed and terrified. Phen saw that one of her hands was swollen to twice its normal size and that a finger was missing from it.
“Who is there?” she whispered to the thin air around her. Her voice was so quiet that Phen barely heard her.
The murmuring of the red priests had turned into a droll howling chant and the air around them was beginning to fill with the crackling static of powerful magic.
“Look closely in the direction of my voice on the count of three and you’ll see me,” Phen told her. “One… two… three,” Phen pulled the ring from his finger for just an instant and shoved it back on.
“Oh!” she yelped in surprise.
Flick glanced back when he sensed magic behind him, but he didn’t see anything.
“Where are they keeping you?” Phen asked. The sound of the chanting priests and the popping noise of the erratic magical light that was flashing over the seal drowned out his voice so that only Rosa could hear.
“In Pael’s tower, in a room called the nest,” she answered.
“Here,” Phen touched her cheek and gently moved her head so that she would have some sense of where he was.
“Wheere are Kang Mikahl and Hyden Hawk? Is my motheer seending the Royal Guard?” she asked hopefully. “I remember yew, yer Hyden Hawk’s apprentice, Pin.”
“My name is Phen, and there’s only me,” he told her. “I came to get that.” He pointed at the Silver Skull then realized that she couldn’t see his hand. “The Silver Skull,” he added, hoping his embarrassment wasn’t evident in his voice.
“What’s it feer?” she asked, but Phen didn’t have to answer. A great grinding roar filled the night. It was accompanied by a blasting gout of flame that shot up high into the sky.
As soon as Phen saw it, he knew that it was Gerard. The thing stood with its head level with the second floor balcony and was covered in thick plated skin. Its leathery wings stretched wide and were dripping with stringy mucus. Its claws looked like daggers, as did its teeth. It had short thick hind legs and an elongated torso. Its neck was stretched and its rope-like hair dangled from a huge half-snouted head. Its skin was glossy black and at its elbows and knees wicked looking spikes had formed. Bright eyes, as big as cantaloupes, looked out from under angry brows. Other than their size, the eyes looked perfectly human. That’s how Phen knew that it was Gerard. They were so much like Hyden’s eyes that he shivered with disgust.
Princess Rosa fainted, collapsing into a heap beside Phen. It’s probably for the better, he thought. He was having a hard time controlling his fear. Any time, one of the wizards, or even a priest, might sense his presence. The sound of the priests chanting, and a deep humming whistle of wind, kept him from hearing the conversation Shaella was having with her lover, but he could see by the way she was touching him, and herself, that the two of them were sharing something deeply personal.
Had there not been such a resemblance, Phen would have discounted that this thing was once his friend’s brother. How this monstrosity of might had once been human he couldn’t fathom. Nor could he understand why it leapt back into the gaping maw of the seal. A few moments later, a pair of panther-like hellcats peered cautiously up out of the hole. Shaella let loose a binding spell and they leapt into flight. Then came another winged demon. This one shot up out of the hole, straight into the sky. By the look Shaella gave Cole, it was clear he had failed to bind it with a spell. Shaella cursed and screamed orders at both of her wizards. They moved around for better position, leaving Phen alone with the Princess.
He hoped that she would turn invisible when he grabbed her, but she didn’t. Worse, she was too heavy for him to lift, much less carry to safety.
A great commotion near the priests’ gateway commanded Phen’s attention. Something that radiated evil like a foggy stench crawled up out of the hole. It was huge and hairy, with long apish arms, and cherry eyes. It stood on two legs and carried a massive bone as if it were a club. The end of the bone was knotted and gnarled, and the shaft was the size of a healthy tree. When the thing stood upright, its wolfish head was above the balcony. Several smaller things crawled out at its feet and Cole spelled each of them as quickly as he could. One was a scorpion as big as a goat. There was venom dripping from its curled stinger.
With a sharp pop that left Phen’s ears ringing, the hole suddenly disappeared. The three priests collapsed into heaps on the garden lawn. Flick was casting a spell that was far beyond Phen’s understanding. Then the bald-headed wizard scooped up the Princess and strode away. It was all Phen could do to keep up with him as he wound and twisted and climbed through a labyrinth of hallways to Pael’s tower lift. Phen couldn’t go up with the two of them, but that was all right. He heard the command Flick used to make the lift rise. As soon as Flick came back down, Phen got on and, with a word, rode it up to the nest. It was several hours later, after he had somewhat healed the infection in Rosa’s hand, and tended the stump of her finger, that he realized he didn’t know the command to send the lift back down. Not only would he soon be discovered, he couldn’t get away.