Sapphire of Souls Page 11

"That is better," Pharark said. "If you wish to rule what is left of humankind when I am done, you will do well to learn proper respect." With a flutter of his wings, the demon shifted his bulk again and a few bones went tumbling down his pile into the black murky pools on either side of him. The glossy flaming liquid was so thick that it barely rippled.

  "Now, stand and tell me why you demanded to see me."

  Rayden was now fully terrified. He understood completely why such an imposing being like Lord Ulrich would call this massive creature master. He knew undoubtedly that dealing with such a creature was foolish, but he had no army with which to defend his kingdom from the gothicans or the trolls. The chance to expand his border and gain the prosperous farmland his people so desperately needed was worth the risk of bargaining with evil, not that he had much of a choice in the matter. If he refused to let Lord Ulrich sneak his army through Nepram, he knew the gothicans would just take his kingdom and kill his people as they marched through anyway.

  "Master Pharark, forgive me for troubling you." King Rayden steadied his voice as best as he could. "I only wished to put a face to Lord Ulrich's master. Isn't it wise to know with whom you are truly dealing? After all, it is not Lord Ulrich who I am serving, but you. It is you who has promised me the land south of the river in return for my cooperation, not the gothican battle lord."

  "Yes, King Rayden, it is I with whom you truly deal. And it is I who will deal with you from now on," Pharark yawned, and then scowled down at him. "Is that all?"

  It was more of a statement than a question, King Rayden knew, and he was more than eager to leave the demon's presence as quickly as possible. "Yes, Master Pharark, that is all."

  Pharark laughed and made a thunderous guttural sound. Then, after a few moments during which an odd, possibly pain-filled expression slid across his ugly bulbous face. He hocked and spit out a red shining wad of crumpled metal. King Rayden knew that it was what was left of his former guardsmen's armor. The ball of bloody steel clanged across the cavern floor and rolled to a stop.

  "Leave me then," Pharark said before hunching down on his pile and closing his eyes. Without hesitation, King Rayden and his remaining guard hurried out of the demon's hole.

  Sometime later, Pharark woke to the wet hissing sound of Oker Slithery's reptilian voice, calling him to the pool at his feet. He looked angrily into the pool to see the slimy lizard man's face looking at him with black bulging eyes and a constantly flickering little forked tongue.

  "What is it?" Pharark yelled at the ruler of the marshlands known as the Denizen Swamp.

  Oker Slithery showed no fear or emotion whatsoever. He looked passively back at the demon. His big black eyes were lifeless and set in wrinkly sockets that stuck out of each side of his scale-covered head. When he blinked, not one, but two separate lids closed over them. The first, a milky clear film moved across the blackness from the side. The other, a scaly lid lifted from the bottom up as it closed and opened just as quickly.

  "You summoned me, demon," the lizard man said slowly.

  "Oh. Yes, I did." Pharark remembered what he'd been about before the foolish human king disturbed him. "I summoned you to say things have changed, and I will let you and your creatures consume a completely defenseless Nepram much sooner than expected. Your subjects will be able to fill their bellies with human flesh before winter sets in if things go as I anticipate."

  "`Tis good." Oker Slithery hissed and flickered his tongue yet again. "The humans forced us from the fringe of the swamp. Now we live in the muck. It will be our pleasure to devour them for you." The lizard man blinked his eyes several times, rapidly. "I regret it will take us longer to finish them in the colder months, but finish them we will."

  "Your creatures will find warmth and shelter from the cold in insolent King Rayden's castle and in the dwellings of the humans he rules." Pharark assured him. "It will be better than shivering in the slime, I'm sure."

  "Yesss." Oker hissed. "When shall we begin?"

  "You can start feeding on the humans as you will," Pharark said with an evil grin, "but the gothicans will not be finished for some time, so keep to the fringes and be prepared to slide the rest of the way across Nepram on my command."

  Pharark was pleased with the way things were going. All he needed now was the Sapphire of Souls. With it, he could reshape the land to his liking. Once the humans who weren't killed were herded into groups for labor and food, he could then build an army of more formidable creatures capable of destroying other lands. With the Sapphire of Souls, he could cause King Barden and his great god-mocking statue to sink into a hole and never be seen again. He could mold the earth into a land bridge and march an army across the sea, wreaking havoc until the whole planet was lost in chaos. He would grow strong on the terror and fear he would create. He would thrive on humanity’s despair. He would—

  "Mighty Pharark, Demon of Destruction, master of pain and terror. I have information of great importance," a thin voice echoed through the chamber.

  It was the voice of Krookin Bloodthorn, king of the wood trolls. The demon dismissed Oker Slithery’s image in the pool with a wave of his hand. The only information Bloodthorn would have would be of the sapphire. With a crackling twist of his neck and a fluttering of his wings, he resituated his bulk and looked into his other pool until the face of the groveling troll king appeared there.

  "Mighty Pharark, please answer my call. I have information."

  "What is it, Bloodthorn," Pharark said, barely able to mask his excitement. "Have you found my prize? Why did you not use the summoning stone I gave you?" King Bloodthorn was hunched over in his throne, looking into a bowl full of foul smelling muck the demon had long ago given him. Somehow, it allowed him to communicate with his master.

  "The dwarves and elves you spoke of have found the stone you seek," King Bloodthorn said.

  "Why did you not use the summoning stone? Where are they? What have they done with it?" Pharark asked the questions so quickly that Bloodthorn couldn't answer any of them.

  "They have not obtained the Sapphire of Souls yet, Master, it lies safely awaiting your greatness somewhere at the bottom of a lake."

  "The bottom of a lake?" Pharark yelled, half-angry, half-relieved. “No wonder your fool trolls couldn't find it.” He looked down at the troll king's stupid expression in the pool. "What of the group that seeks it? What are they up to?"

  "That I do not know, great demon," Bloodthorn answered. "They have circled the lake slowly and have a camp where it spills back into the river’s old flow. One of my own sons overheard them discussing the location of the gem."

  "Where is this lake?" Pharark asked angrily. His patience was wearing thin.

  Krookin Bloodthorn did his best to explain where in the Wilderkind Forest the body of water was located, and after answering several questions, he listened intently to Pharark's new instructions.

  "Surround them, Bloodthorn," Pharark said with almost manic glee. "Surround the entire lake. Send reinforcements, legions if you must, but do not stop the elves and dwarves from what they are doing. Let them figure out how to retrieve my prize while we prepare to take it from them. Tell your trolls, all of them, that if they lay eyes on the sapphire, they are to reach me with the summoning stone at once."

  King Bloodthorn made a face that told Pharark he wasn't going to like what he was about to hear.

  "If I send legions of my trolls to the lake, they will not be in place and ready to attack the kingdom as you previously ordered."

  "Ignorant troll king," the demon shouted as he leaned down to put his face closer to the pool so its image filled the bowl in Bloodthorn's lap. "The Sapphire of Souls is worth more to me than all of trollkind. And if you fail me, I assure you, Bloodthorn, you will regret it a thousand times over. I must have the sapphire. All else is nothing. Do you understand?"

  Before King Bloodthorn could respond, the demon was gone.

  Pharark, in a fit of savage glee, stomped around his pile and roared out his happiness. The
n, he spent a short while very carefully retrieving and replacing the bones he’d scattered in his joyous tirade. Once he was done, he summoned Lord Ulrich's image into the pool of black muck.

  "Lord Ulrich, the time has come," Pharark commanded once the gothican's face appeared. "March your warriors across Nepram and take Antole. And, Lord Ulrich, leave nothing but death in your wake."

  "Yes." The gothican battle lord gave an eager grin. "What of King Rayden? Will he resist?"

  "I think not." Pharark laughed. Then he leaned down, looking deeper into the pool. "If he does, send me his head to add to my pile. Now go. Take Antole."

  The image of Ulrich Gruel shimmered and shifted to that of King Craggon, ruler of the mighty rock trolls.

  "Craggon," Pharark yelled, causing the gray-skinned rock troll to jerk his head toward the giant blue crystal that sat in the floor of his mountain cave. It was in the crystal's largest facet that he could see Pharark's fat purple head looking out at him impatiently. Craggon calmly strode over to the crystal and stood before it. "Yes, demon."

  "Send a fist of your trolls to take Uppervale immediately," Pharark ordered. "Bring the rest of them out of the mountains through the Gothfol and attack Narvoza's outposts from the forest. The gothican forces in the north will press King Barden's men with all they have until you can get behind them."

  "As you wish, demon," the rock troll said. A slow smile crept across his scarred face. "What of the dwarves?"

  Chapter Sixteen

  The rain slowly turned to sleet. The temperature had dropped considerably and Braxton could see ice gathering in Chureal's hair. Beyond arms reach, there was nothing but pitch black. Occasionally, a bolt of brilliant white lightning would rip up out of the ocean toward the sky, and in its brightness, Braxton could see the mountainous swells below and the dark angry clouds swirling above. Emerald's massive wings beat slowly but steadily, and Braxton could feel the dragon's great strength as it labored to keep them in the air.

  Braxton stared ahead through squinted eyes, seeing only when the storm wanted him to, and even then, only for brief moments. It appeared that the dragon was looking for something. He had dropped them closer to the waves. The wind whipped the tops of them away. Chureal was huddled into her layers of clothes, scared and shivering and likely out of tears.

  She'd hidden her face after the rain first started and hadn't peeked out since. Braxton thought if she could, she would wiggle all the way back into his body. Already, she was pressed so tightly against him he could barely breathe.

  Emerald suddenly lurched sideways and was carried off by a blast of freezing air so swiftly that Braxton and Chureal nearly tumbled out of the saddle. When lightning crackled not more than a dozen paces away, Braxton saw the dark churning water coming up at them far too quickly. As the concussion of thunder exploded right below, Braxton wrapped his arms around Chureal tightly. He was just in time for he felt the dragon rear up to lighten their impact as if they were about to crash into the sea.

  An odd stillness, followed by a series of impossible lurching motions that were so harsh and sudden they were nearly tumbled from the saddle again, gave Braxton the feeling they were about to be forced over into the water by the dragon's rolling body. As he held tightly onto Chureal with one arm and the saddle with the other, he sought out the void. Though he couldn't find it, when lightning flashed again, in the distance, he was overcome with relief because he saw that they were on land. The lurching motion was Emerald's large body jerking with his lurching steps as he scampered awkwardly up a beach.

  Another blast of energy shot up from the ground. It was much closer this time, and left Braxton looking almost straight up at the raging storm. Emerald came back down to his foreclaws gracefully enough, and before the illumination faded, Braxton saw what looked like a tower further inland.

  Apparently, Emerald had seen something Braxton hadn't. When the next bolt of lightning flashed, the dragon took two quick steps and leapt into the air for a short flying hop that carried them over a copse of trees. There he saw a small rocky outcropping with a shallow cave scalloped into its side.

  The protection from the storm was shockingly sudden. It was like crawling from an icy lake into a warm room. As Emerald lowered his head and neck for them to dismount, Braxton thought he might have never been as relieved in his whole life.

  Chureal was also relieved, and without a word, she pulled her bundle out of the saddle bag and climbed down into Braxton's arms. He sat her on a rock and dug through his pack, searching for his flint and steel, but before he found it, a soft amber glow filled the cave with light.

  The flaming illumination was coming from Chureal's upturned palm. As curious as Braxton was, he didn’t ask about it. Instead, he went about scooping up some of the broken pieces of wood debris that littered the cavern floor.

  Emerald used his bulk to block out most of the weather and was already fast asleep with his big green head laying close to Chureal. It wasn't long before a warm fire was blazing. Chureal went behind the dragon's tail and changed into some dry clothes. When she was done, she laid the wet ones by the fire, and then Braxton did the same. Braxton gave a silent thanks to his friend Davvy for insisting he buy only the best gear available, for anything less would have surely allowed his things to be drenched by a storm of such magnitude.

  After eating some dried beef and cheese, Chureal got up and turned over all the clothes that were drying. Seeing her doing this was the last thing Braxton remembered before he fell fast asleep.

  As he slept, he dreamed.

  Braxton stood on white sugary sand that extended in every direction as far as he could see. The landscape was bland and featureless. The only object he could sense was the black tower thrusting up into a flat gray sky. There was no light, therefore there were no shadows, and as he walked toward the distant landmark, he turned and saw young Chureal, in her bloody dress, running frantically to catch up to him. The girl's tattered garb was like a drop of blood on a clean sheet of parchment, the only color in a grayscale world.

  When she caught up to him, she took his hand in hers. Instantly, color returned to him, but only to his person. The world around them was still black and white under a perfectly gray sky.

  As she skipped along beside him, he could feel how small and frail Chureal's hand was in his. Through their contact, he could also feel a strong current of anguish and pain just underneath the surface of her happy shell. After walking for what seemed like days, the tower grew no closer. In the pause of motion he'd taken to observe this, Chureal spoke.

  "This place is horrible," she said, her expression one of grave concern. "But I will fix it."

  With a wave of her little arm, grass pushed up through the bleak white sand. In some places, stems pushed up and tiny specks of red slowly bloomed into yellow-orange flowers while purple mushrooms, spotted pink, and yellow, popped into existence across the expanse. More flowers, little white ones, and larger pale blue ones began to appear. They were complemented by golden butterflies with wings resembling black lace.

  "What else?" she asked, and then looked up at Braxton expectantly.

  With a laugh and a wave of his own hand, Braxton made soft sloping hills rise and sink across the carpet-like expanse. For a moment, it looked like a rolling sea, but then it all settled into gentle mounds and valleys full of life and wonder.

  Then he remembered the tower and turned to see if it still loomed there, all black and ominous, like a thorn jabbed into the now colorful earth. As his gaze wandered from its gently tapered base to its heights, he saw that there was a hole in its side just below where it punctured the flat gray sky.

  With another wave of his hand he turned the sky blue and filled it with white puffy clouds.

  Chureal giggled beside him. "I forgot the sky."

  A bright yellow sun appeared then and shadows were thrown across the land. Then there was a breeze, and birds chirping. As Braxton looked curiously at the hole in the side of the tower, a pale face framed in glossy blac
k hair appeared with a smile. It was Nixy. She stuck her arm out of the hole and waved at him. When he waved back at her, a look of terror crossed her visage, and she glanced over her shoulder, back into the tower. Fear radiated from her like warmth from the new sun, and he, too, became scared.

  A large gnarled hand with claws as black as the tower wrapped around her. It pulled her screaming into the darkness.

  The heat from the big yellow sun Chureal had created grew in intensity and pressed down on him. All around them, the colors of their creation began to burn brown, then gray, then black as they were scorched away.

  He found Chureal sitting at his feet, clutching desperately to a big blue flower that had somehow escaped the heat. With a look of excited alarm in her wide opened eyes, she screamed. "Wake up Braxton. Braxton wake up."

  He shook his head and felt the sweat that coated his skin and looked back up at the empty hole in the tower.

  "Wake up, sleepy head," Chureal said again.

  Braxton opened his eyes to see a bright yellow sun shining down on him through the open mouth of the cave. Chureal was smiling and waving a piece of dried meat in his face. She was also holding a big blue flower and grinning from ear to ear.

  After shaking off the odd dream, and munching his first bite of food, he asked her where the dragon was. She said that Emerald had gone to feed. Braxton rose to look out across the island. It was far too small to hold anything big enough to satisfy the dragon's hunger. He then remembered the mighty blue wyrm swooping across the bow of the Luck of the Little to catch a fish. His curiosity was satisfied until he saw the tower. Constructed just like it had been in the dream, save for the hole, its broad base narrowed gradually as it rose into a clear blue sky. He couldn't help but wonder what such a thing was doing on a tiny island in the middle of the sea. His thoughts were then blotted out by the sparkling green body of Emerald landing gracefully in front of him.