Rikus’s eyes widened. He stared up at the dwarf’s glowing hand with a pained expression. “I’m too sore for that,” he growled. “You don’t have to heal me right now.”
“Of course he does,” snarled Tithian’s voice.
Caelum looked over and saw the king-or rather, a creature with the king’s head-crawling out of the silt channel. Tithian’s body no longer looked even remotely human. It was shaped like that of a lizard, with a knobby green hide and squat, powerful legs so broad they looked more like paddles. As the strange beast emerged the rest of the way onto the shoal, the dwarf saw that it had wrapped its long tail around the considerable bulk of the Dark Lens.
The creature crawled over to them and deposited the Lens at Rikus’s side.
“Now be quiet and let Caelum save your miserable hide-again,” Tithian said, looking toward the cutters. “I’ll go make arrangements for us to continue. Perhaps we can finish our journey in a style more befitting my station.”
FOURTEEN
THE GATE OF DOOM
The ravine was a scar upon the blackened face of the plain, an ugly slash choked with jagged boulders and thick with brown vapor. Its sheer walls were capped with long mounds of loose stone, as if some immense plow had scratched a furrow from a field of solid basalt. The floor was littered with pulsing heaps of yellow stones, while tiny fissures in the cliff faces spat beads of steaming white sludge across the canyon. There was not a plant, living or dead, in the whole valley.
The ravine spilled into a vast, fiery abyss filled with molten rock. At this brink loomed a massive arch of black granite, engraved with squirming yellow runes and twice as tall as the cliffs flanking it. In the shadows beneath the arch stood the Dragon, eclipsed by the edifice and silhouetted against the orange glow rising from the chasm at his back. The claws of one hand were closed around a small, limp figure.
Though Sadira could not see it clearly from this distance, she assumed the figure to be Rkard. The sorceress had been watching for quite some time and still had not seen the boy move.
Sadira felt a hand grasp her shoulder. “It’s time,” Neeva whispered. “Caelum just received Tithian’s thought-message. They’re in position.”
Sadira looked at the ravine’s south wall. The cliff was only about half the height of the great arch itself, but easily tall enough so that Rikus and Tithian would be able to attack the Dragon from above. She saw no sign of the mul or the king, of course, for they would not show themselves until the battle began. Until then, they would remain hidden behind the mound of loose stones that capped the wall.
According to the plan, Neeva and Caelum would make the first move. Protected by Sadira’s magic, they would go straight down the ravine. They would try to hold the Dragon’s attention on themselves, so that the sorceress would have a better chance of using her powers to sneak up on him.
Sadira’s task was to deprive the Dragon of his most dangerous magic. Like the sorcerer-kings, Borys could draw the life force from men and animals. Also like the sorcerer-kings, he required the aid of obsidian globes to convert it into magical energy. But the Dragon’s mighty spells required more of the dark orbs than his hands could hold, so he swallowed his globes and carried them inside his body. If Sadira could get close enough, she could shatter the obsidian in Borys’s stomach, thus robbing him of his mightiest weapon.
The loss of the globes would probably also stun Borys, so Sadira would move quickly to rescue Rkard. Then, if necessary, she would return and lure the Dragon from beneath his arch by taunting him, pretending to suffer an injury, or-as a last resort-leaving herself vulnerable to a physical attack. When Borys stepped out of his cover, Rikus and Tithian would attack from above. Hopefully, the ambush would prove fatal. If it did not, the assault would lapse into an unpredictable melee, and their strategy would become, of necessity, a simple one: attack as fast and as hard as possible.
“Sadira?” asked Neeva. “Is something wrong?”
The sorceress shook her head, then followed her friend back behind the ridge they were using as a hiding place. She was sad to see that Neeva did not go to Caelum’s side. Sadira had hoped that her friend would make amends with her husband before the fighting started.
The sorceress went to Neeva’s side and took the warrior’s axe. “Don’t you think it’s time to forgive your husband?” she whispered. “This will be a hard-fought battle.”
“I didn’t see you kiss Rikus before sending him off,” countered the warrior, also whispering.
“That’s different. Caelum did all he could to protect your son,” Sadira said. “Rikus was glad to see Agis gone.”
“That’s not true,” Neeva replied.
“He thought he’d have me to himself. I saw it in his eyes,” Sadira insisted. “He’s always been jealous of Agis.”
“Rikus?” Neeva scoffed, shaking her head. She lowered her voice even further. “Neither of you are ones to be jealous. That’s why you have him and I don’t.”
“As I recall, you ended that romance-for Caelum.” Sadira glanced over her friend’s shoulder at the dwarf. He was deep in concentration, one hand pressed to his sun-mark. “And I think you’ll find you still love him, if you ask yourself how you would have stopped Borys.”
Neeva bit her lip and looked away. “Maybe, after this is over,” she said. “But all I can think of now is getting Rkard back. Fix my axe so we can get on with it.”
Sadira sighed. She rubbed her ebony fingers over the weapon’s steel head, speaking several incantations in a row. A dark stain spread outward from beneath her fingertips, coating the double-edged weapon with an ebony sheen as smooth and lustrous as a mirror. Tiny whirlpools of dusky light poured into one blade, while sable starbursts sparkled from the other. Even the handle turned as black as pitch.
“Remember, use the flat of the blade to deflect anything flying at you.” Sadira handed the weapon back to Neeva. “When Borys tries to use his magic, point the handle at him. And above all, if you get close enough to hit him, leave the blade buried in his flesh as long as possible-”
“Unless you’ve changed any of the enchantments, there’s no need to go over it again,” interrupted Neeva. She cast a nervous glance skyward. “Night could come at any moment.”
Sadira looked up and nodded. Although it had been less than three days since they had entered the valley, they had learned to be wary of their sense of time. The boiling ash storm overhead cast the same red pall over this strange land all day long, rendering it impossible to judge the hour by looking at the sky. They could not even create a sundial. The thick clouds hid the sun and prevented even a faint shadow from showing on the ground.
To make matters worse, when night fell, it would do so with no period of twilight or hint of dusk. The sky would simply change from a bright crimson to a dim scarlet, and Sadira’s skin would fade from ebony to its normal hue of ivory. And, as Neeva had pointed out, that could happen soon. Morning, such as it was, had arrived much earlier that day, long before Caelum’s tracking spell had led them to the Dragon.
Unfortunately, holding their assault until morning was out of the question, for Borys knew their strengths and limitations too well. If they let night fall, he would certainly attack them.
Sadira stepped aside, letting Neeva and Caelum pass. “I’m fairly certain that arch is a mystic gate, though I’ve no idea where it leads,” she said. “So keep a watchful eye. If Borys activates it, our best chance of following him-and Rkard-will be to duplicate what he does exactly.”
“What should we watch for?” Neeva asked.
Sadira shook her head. “I wish I knew. A command, or touching a hidden panel, perhaps even something as simple as stepping out the other end,” she said. “I doubt that he’ll try to use it until he’s injured. But just in case, I’ll try for your son as quickly as I can.”