Demon of Destruction Read online

  The priest seemed most appalled by it all, but the elves were affected just as much. It wasn't revulsion or disgust they showed, though. It was confusion.

  There was no way to figure why anyone or anything would do such horrible things.

  Burnt out wagons surrounded by fly-swarmed lumps that had once been people littered the road. Just as one horrible scene ended, another began.

  A small girl of no more than eight or nine years lay naked with one of her legs twisted at an impossible angle. The headless body of a man was near her, probably her father. The mutilated body of a few more souls had been tossed into a pile. The mostly empty wagon they'd been traveling in was on its side, no doubt looted as the family tried to flee the destruction Reaton-Stav left in his wake.

  Nixy didn't want to think about what happened to the mother, for her body was nowhere to be seen.

  Father Veristy hadn't stopped praying since they passed the first rotting lumps of flesh and, for a while, it seemed he wouldn't be able to stop.

  Finally, well after dark, while riding at a slow trot by torchlight, they found a place that looked to be clear of death and destruction and made a camp.

  Nixy was in shock, and for the first time, she started to wonder if they weren't too late to save the orphans. If a rejected student of the Sorcerious could cause this much death and destruction, she didn't want to think about what the battle-hardened gothicans or the wild trolls could do.

  She wished Braxton were with her, for his presence always gave her courage and hope. Since she learned Emerald wouldn't be able to retrieve him and the others from the Wilderkind, a feeling that it might all be for nothing had been looming in the back of her mind.

  She hoped Braxton was alright and that, somehow, he, Chureal, and their magic would find a way to stop this madness. For now, she wondered if she even wanted to bring a child into this horrific chaos.

  "How far is it to Antole?" Thaelos asked quietly. She realized she sat by a small fire, and that the yellow-eyed elf was trying to hand her a bowl of oats.

  "Sorry." She shook her head and gathered her thoughts. "Thank you." She took the food. "Two full days to the outer wall, and then most of another day into the city to get to the orphanage."

  The sheer complexity of getting so many children safely out of Antole dawned on her. She took a bite of food even though she wasn't hungry. Worry had her stomach tied in a knot, and she felt foolish for thinking she could accomplish her goal.

  She had no plan, no idea what to do, or how to do it. She almost broke down and cried, but a voice inside her told her she was starting to act like Suclair used to. She was no unconfident pamperling that needed to be coddled. She needed a plan, and now was the time to start devising one.

  She ate a few more bites of the food, then looked to Father Veristy and said, "We need a plan."

  "Yes, we do," he responded. After a long silence, he began making suggestions and asking questions. Before long, the rough outline of an idea took shape. A lot of it would depend on the condition and attitude of the city and just how many children they would have to take. Luckily, Suclair had given Nixy the pouch of silver and gold coins they'd retrieved from under the floor board before they left the Sorcerious. If they had to buy wagons, they could afford it. Then Nixy found herself laughing because she knew she would lie, cheat, and even steal anything they needed to give those children a chance to escape the hell that was marching toward them.

  They split the guard duty. Nixy and Savon took the first watch, Father Veristy and Thaelos the second. It was decided the fire should be doused since human intruders at this point were far more likely than creatures.

  The first watch passed uneventful, but the priest woke everyone with a scream in the middle of the second watch when a buzzard, or a fat crow, mistook him for a corpse and swooped too close.

  The next morning, and most of the day, were also eventless. The same sort of destruction littered the roadside as before, but it all seemed more recent. Nixy told the elves to be ready for anything. Dutifully, Thaelos and Savon rode with arrows nocked. Neither of them had loosed from the back of the horse, save for the previous day, but both were above average marksmen, and neither of them seemed worried.

  Nixy's caution was proven wise when they rode up on a still smoldering wagon. Two freshly killed young men were laying in the middle of the road, and as she spurred Prism ahead of the others, she caught sight of a third man pinned to a wagon by a short sword through his chest.

  He was still alive, though barely. He was pointing off into the trees and Nixy didn't catch it at first, but his warning came just in time.

  “Trap,” he whispered with his last breath.

  Nixy turned and urged Prism back toward the others, and only the horse's powerful lurch forward carried her out of the way of the arrow that came streaking from the forest.

  Immediately, Savon and Thaelos loosed arrows back into the woods, then all four of them were forced to charge beyond the wreckage in search of some sort of cover.

  Chapter Four

  "Why is your last name Hammerhead?" Chureal asked Big H.

  They sat resting on log, eating berries and roots. She had only asked eight questions so far this day. Braxton was counting. It was far less than the thirty of forty she usually asked by dinner time, but this question was actually a good one. Braxton had been wondering the same thing, but was too polite to ask.

  "We dwarves are named for what we do," Big H answered with a sigh. If he didn't answer, she would pester him until he did. Usually, her questions were for Braxton or Cryelos. Big H was clearly glad to be bringing relief to the ears of his companions when he answered her.

  "There be Stonecrushers, Rockbreakers, and Tunnelers. Gemcutters, Gemfinders, Oarforgers, and on, and on, and on."

  "So, you hammer with your head?" she asked with a scrunched-up face. "That is silly."

  "No, no, no, lass." He shook his head and rolled his eyes crazily, causing her to giggle. "We have made hammerheads for forty generations. Hammerheads for fighting, hammerheads for rock busting, hammerheads for lightly chipping and carving, and hammerheads for pounding little girls who ask too many questions." He grinned to Braxton and Cryelos.

  Seemingly satisfied with his answer, Chureal hunkered down in her fur-lined cloak and went back to her root and berry supper.

  They'd been walking all day, every day, for twelve days now. They left the Wilderkind Forest behind and entered the wetter marshy northern part of the Denizen Swamp. It had sleeted on them twice and snowed once already. Luckily, the colder weather was keeping the reptilian creatures who lived there at bay. The last creatures other than birds and squirrels and such they'd come across was a small pack of kobls several days back, where the new, lush forest died out into the old thorny and twisted Wilderkind.

  The leaves had turned. Fiery shades of orange and yellow fell fluttering down on them as they walked ever westward toward the mountains. Finally, even the type of trees around them changed. Now, the woods were sparse, the limbs drooped to the ground, and a mossy substance grew everywhere it could, apparently unaffected by the coming winter.

  Braxton spent most of his time in the void because when he didn’t, he was overwhelmed by Nixy's letter, and her absence. The fact that he was going to be a father was both wondrous and disturbing for he was beginning to understand his duty to the jewel better every day.

  He'd read almost half of the journal now and learned much. He found that the only way to escape the confusing emotions that churned within him was to stay in the void and practice his growing skill. When he wasn't doing that, he was contemplating how to stop Pharark.

  A loud crashing of bent and breaking forest snapped them all to attention, and before any of them could stop her, Chureal charged toward the sound.

  "Wait," Braxton cried out. He jumped to his feet, but it was too late. Luckily Cryelos was running after her with an arrow nocked and ready.

  "It's probably just that blasted little dragon again," Big H said.
"It's been three days since they've seen each other and if he is as excitable as she, then he couldn't wait another minute to be near her again."

  Braxton knew the dwarf was right. Cobalt, the young blue wyrm, had taken to Chureal like a fish to water. It worked out well because she was the only one small enough for the young dragon to carry. What the two of them were going to do when it came time to go down into the dwarf hole they were seeking, if they ever found it, was just another worry Braxton gladly set aside when he disappeared into the void.

  There was no time for the void now, though, and he hurried after Cryelos just in case it wasn't the dragon lumbering around out there.

  Big H started gathering up their things. They had a while of walking yet before dark, and they needed to go as far as they could each and every day. The colder weather and shorter days were already slowing them down too much. Besides that, Big H could already sense the warm comfort of the caverns and tunnels he was used to. He told them several times a day. He could taste the ale and brandy on his tongue. All of it was waiting up there ahead somewhere, and the longer they dallied in the swamp eating berries and fooling with dragons, the longer it would be until he was in a drunken stupor in a warm, fire-lit cavern.

  Cryelos tried to stop Chureal but wasn't quick enough. Actually, he probably could have stopped her, but the young dragon intimidated him immensely. Cobalt, even as a yearling, could bite an elf in two with one snap of his jaws, and as Cryelos drew near, he found his feet slowing and his movements growing cautious.

  "Don't worry, Cryelos," she called to him between gleeful giggles from where she’d climbed on top of the dragon's back. "I will keep an eye on you all from the air."

  Down his spine, like all dragons, a series of thick, fin-like plates extended up through Cobalt's scaly hide. As if it were meant to be, Chureal fit right between two of these triangular protrusions. She'd already mastered riding there, and the wyrm seemingly enjoyed carrying her as much as she enjoyed riding.

  As Braxton gained Cryelos's side, he sensed that Cobalt was eager to bond with Chureal and her jewel, just as Emerald had been bonded to Skyla-Veltin. Braxton knew Chureal had already tried to do this secretly, but it hadn't happened yet, or maybe it had and he just didn't know it. He had no idea if any of them would feel anything when and if this sort of happening took place.

  Chureal didn't understand much about the jewel's power other than what Braxton tried to explain to her. His words only seemed to confuse her more. Still, if she wanted to do something, she usually could with her will alone.

  She'd turned a rock into a fat red apple, and though too scared to eat it herself, she'd given it to Cryelos, who said it was the best tasting apple he'd ever eaten and grew angry when she wouldn't show him where the tree was that she'd plucked it from.

  Braxton also overheard her talking to a rabbit, warning it to tell all of its friends to avoid the mean old elf who was trying to shaft them so that he could eat one for supper. To both her and Braxton's surprise, the creature had chattered back to her a thank you for the warning, then hopped away to do as she bade.

  She hadn't told Braxton about these things. He'd either sensed them or witnessed them from the void through the eyes of the white falcon. He was sure there was more going on than he knew, though, and he thought she might be communicating with Cobalt in a way the others couldn't detect. She was a young girl after all, and they were a bunch of usually grumpy men tired of trudging through the woods and marshes eating foliage. A young dragon had to be better to talk to than they were.

  Chureal wanted to tell Braxton about the things she was doing, but he had to try so hard and practice so much to do things she did easily that she didn't want to hurt his feelings. He always seemed so far away. She understood he was thinking about the mean old demon and how to stop him from tearing up the world, but she couldn't understand why he still carried around that big backpack full of pretty red crystals they'd gotten in the frozen north, or why Cryelos carried the smooth black summoning stone.

  Braxton had the power to make blood crystals when he needed them, out of rocks, or even sticks, anything natural. Well, maybe, she decided he couldn't do that yet, but she could. As Cobalt prepared to leap into the sky, she decided she would try to make some later and maybe tell him about it. She sure didn't like seeing him struggle with that weight all day, every day.

  She was suddenly whipped backwards as the dragon jumped into the air. She forgot everything when the cold wind caught her face and caused her to squeal with as much glee as shock from the icy blast.

  "Chureal—" Braxton yelled. "Damn. Now we will have to waste the evening waiting on her."

  "She said she would watch us from the sky," Cryelos told him. "It amazes me seeing her ride so carelessly on the back of that dragon."

  Braxton and Cryelos shared a smile, and it was clear they were both envious. Braxton had ridden on the back of a wyrm, and it was clear that Cryelos longed to do the same.

  "What is it like?" Cryelos asked.

  "What do you mean?"

  "What is it like flying on the back of a dragon?" the elf clarified and started back to help Big H gather up their things.

  Braxton watched Cobalt and Chureal in the sky for a moment, then caught up with his friend. "It is like, well, it is amazing, it is scary, and wonderful, and those words don't even begin to capture the essence of the feeling." Braxton shook his head at his inability to find the vocabulary to express the feelings that were evoked. "The feeling is impossible to describe," he finished.

  "I'd like to try it someday," said Cryelos, glancing through the drooping limbs of the marshland trees.

  "I'm sure when Emerald is healed, he will give you a ride," Braxton said, putting his hand on the elf's shoulder reassuringly. "Just make sure he doesn't fly into a storm when you are over nothing but the sea. That part was no fun at all."

  They gathered their things from the somewhat orderly piles Big H had made. Braxton shouldered his bulky backpack full of blood crystals and was about to take up Chureal's little pack as well, but Cryelos grabbed it before he had the chance.

  "We're not waiting on her?" asked Big H.

  Cryelos glanced at the sky again. "I think it's the other way around."

  "Come on Hannival," Braxton said jokingly. "If anything, we are slowing her down."

  They trudged on through the chilled wetness, each of them silently wishing they could stop and warm their cold wet feet by a fire. Just before dark, they found a clearing and decided to camp there next to a small stream that's water was so much warmer than the air it steamed eerily, causing a fog to hang over it and reach into the trees around them.

  The grassy mound they built their fire on was dry enough. Cobalt came lumbering down, far less graceful in his landing than the older dragon, Emerald ever was. The only dragon Braxton had seen have a worse landing was the young hatchling who splashed into the river near his camp what seemed like a million years ago. He decided that smooth landings must be a learned trait, not a natural one.

  Chureal hurried off the young blue wyrm and ran excitedly to Braxton. She spoke so fast that he only caught part of what she was trying to say, but enough to gather that the mountains were only another day's walk away. He also learned there was what looked like an old, burned-out camp halfway between, and that a few kobls were scavenging there.

  "They are probably not there anymore, though," she put her hands on her hips and cocked her head. "Cobalt and I swooped on them and they scattered into the hills." She went on and on about making the vermin flee, speaking at least a hundred words in one breath. Then she took in another and started in again.

  Braxton heard the last of it and couldn't help agree that it might be a bad idea.

  "— and maybe tomorrow, Cobalt and I can fly around and look for the dwarf hole because it's too cold to keep camping in the woods. And I think I might have figured out a way to take him into the dwarf hole with us, but I'll try that tomorrow and see if I can—" she cocked her hip defiantly a
nd pointed at Braxton. "Are you listening to me?"

  "I'm trying," Braxton grinned. "But you talk enough for any three people."

  "What are we having for supper? I'm hungry," she said as she claimed a spot by the fire. She suddenly looked around in a panic but stopped when she saw Cryelos holding her little pack out toward her.

  "Thank you," she said with a deep sigh of relief.

  The sound of Cobalt's wings thumping air as he lifted away filled the evening, and the wind from them flattened out the steamy fog coming from the slow-moving water so that the full eeriness of their swampy surroundings flickered in the dancing shadows of the campfire. To punctuate the creepiness of it all, a sharp cackling call echoed across the water only to be answered by a similar sound that erupted from nearby.

  "Blessed Arbor, what I would give for a piece of fresh meat," Cryelos said after spitting a seed from a bitter piece of fruit into the fire. "Through most of the day, I couldn't even find a crow to shoot, and in this fetid marshland, I don't think anything edible resides."

  Just then, the cackling call erupted again, from very close by, causing both Chureal and Big H to jump, and then laugh at themselves for doing so.

  "Cryelos, you're sounding more and more like a dwarf every day," Braxton said.

  "And he's all the better for it," agreed Big H.

  "Yesterday, I heard you complaining about your own complaining, Hannival." Braxton chuckled. "I was starting to think you'd gone mad."

  "Just one mushroom and I could make a soup. I'm tired of roots and berries," Cryelos continued complaining. "There is nothing but moss and swamp grass growing out here. And why do these trees droop all the way to the ground?"

  "He does sound like a dwarf," Big H agreed.

  Morning came all too soon. It was bitter cold, and by the time they came to the empty camp Chureal had told them of, a light snow had started falling.