Fight And The Fury (Book 8) Page 3

  The two cloaked figures brawling with Brenwar skittered away, leaving the dwarf swinging at empty air.

  The two figures, swords ready, kept Brenwar hemmed in.

  “Enough,” the lead stranger repeated. “Secure your weapons. I’ve no interest in wounding old friends.” He removed his hood. Bright eyes and pointed ears revealed a stony elven face.

  “Shum?” Bayzog said, shocked.

  Brenwar’s eyes shone big as moons.

  “Yes,” Shum said, kneeling alongside Bayzog. “Now, let’s take a look at those legs.”

  “But, you’re dead.”

  “Was dead. Sort of,” Shum said. “Sansla Libor saved me.”

  The name pricked Bayzog’s ears. It had been so long, more than twenty-five years, since he’d even thought about the cursed elf king, Sansla Libor. Cursed into the form of a great winged ape.

  “Is he still under the curse?” Bayzog asked.

  Shum nodded while inspecting Bayzog’s legs.

  “He’s only gotten worse. It seems the nature of this world hastens things.” The stone-faced Elven Ranger reached into a pouch and withdrew some multicolored grains, which he sprinkled all over Bayzog’s acid burns.

  “Ah!” Bayzog exclaimed, eyes watering. “What is that?”

  “Give it a moment,” Shum said, holding his long finger up.

  The pain in Bayzog’s legs eased. He sighed as relief filled him.

  “You should be able to stand now.” Shum extended his arms and pulled him up.

  Bayzog fought his grimace.

  “Try to walk,” Shum said, folding his hands over his belly.

  Leaning on his staff and showing a grim smile, Bayzog limped along the edge of the stream and said, “At least I’m moving.”

  “The dragon’s acid is often life ending. You’re fortunate we came.”

  “We aren’t helpless,” Bayzog said, eyeing the dwarven chest that Ben now rummaged through. “Not that I’m ungrateful.”

  “Maybe we soon will be,” Ben said, holding up a yellow vial that was less than half full. “Dragon took the other one.”

  “Well!” Brenwar said, marching forward with his meaty hands on his hips. “Look who shows up after the battle is over. A fat-bellied elf! Ha!” He spat in the ground. “What’s the matter? Do you need us to track down your ape-king again?”

  “Mind your tongue, Dwarf,” Shum said, glowering at him with steely eyes.

  “Mind your business,” Brenwar fired back. “And get on with you, Fat Belly.”

  “Brenwar!” Bayzog said. “Our friend now lives. Can you at least welcome him back from the grave?”

  “No,” Brenwar grumbled. “He had no business dying in the first place. He just needed to hold his breath a little longer.”

  “Brenwar, really?” Bayzog said. He couldn’t believe his ears. “You’re colder than a mountain snow cap.”

  The husky dwarf made his way over to Shum and poked him in the chest.

  “Don’t you die on me again, Elf,” Brenwar said. “I’ll bury your corpse myself the next time.”

  Shum looked down on him with flashing eyes.

  Brenwar picked Shum up in a bear hug and bounced him up and down a few times.

  “Alright, alright,” Shum said, pushing Brenwar’s heavy shoulders. “It’s good to see you too, Dwarf. Now set me down, will you?”

  Brenwar obliged, dashing the sweat from his eyes.

  “Are you crying?” Ben asked.

  “Dwarves don’t cry.” He mopped his brow again. “Now, what are ye doing here?”

  “Yes,” Bayzog said, “I don’t believe in coincidence.”

  “We were sent,” Shum said, gesturing to the others. “All of us. You remember my brother Hoven?”

  Nearby, Hoven stood adorned in his riding cloak, elven steels on his hips.

  “And the other Roaming Rangers came to heed the call as well.”

  There were another half-dozen Roaming Rangers. These were Wilder Elves, a more rugged and durable kind of elf. Heavy bodies exposed to harsh elements of all sorts. Their entire presence was eerie, but welcomed.

  “So, again I ask,” Bayzog said, “who sent you? The elves? Sansla Libor?”

  “We cannot say yet,” Shum said, shaking his head. “All I can say at this time is we are here, well-meaning, and seeking Nath Dragon.”

  “What do ye mean, well meaning?” Brenwar retorted. “I don’t like the sound of that.”

  “I don’t think Nath Dragon will like the sound of it either, but know this,” Shum said, “your friend is in grave danger. The worst of all our fears.”

  “Such as?” Brenwar growled.

  “The clutches of the high priestess of Barnabus, Selene, are close. We’re here to make sure she does not capture him,” Shum said. “And we must go.” He made a sharp whistle, as did the other Roaming Rangers. Seconds later, their Elven Steeds emerged from the brush. “Find a ride. We must hurry.”

  “I’m not riding on your beast with you, or any other,” Brenwar said.

  Shum nodded to one of the other Roaming Rangers. One hopped off, took his reins to Brenwar and doubled up with another.

  “Satisfied?” Shum said.

  Brenwar couldn’t get his foot up high enough to reach the stirrup.

  Shum whistled again, and the horse lowered to its knees.

  Brenwar climbed on, saying, “You didn’t have to do that.”

  Bayzog helped himself up behind Shum, and Ben climbed on with Hoven. As soon as they settled, they shot off over the icy stream, deeper into the forest. The wind whistled through Bayzog’s ears. Onward the horses galloped, cutting and leaping through the brush. He could hear the urgency in the Wilder Elf’s voice when he spoke.

  Shum’s words shook him.

  CHAPTER 8

  Dragon King. Nath’s father. The bull dragon’s mockery ignited his blood.

  “And I’m the prince,” Nath said, resting Fang on his shoulder. “And I’m more dragon than the both of you.”

  “Is that so?” the first one said in his mind, lowering his head, coming eye to eye with Nath. “I’ve never seen a dragon use a sword before.” It opened one of its paws to showcase its claws. Nath could almost fit inside its palm. “Dragons fight with claws. Do you have claws, little dragon Prince?”

  “I see his claws,” the second bull dragon said. “My, they look as vicious as pine needles. Perhaps he plans to tickle us.” It rested its head on the ground. “Is that your plan, little dragon?”

  There was venom in their thoughts. Hatred. Ancient, but not buried. The bull dragons weren’t like the others, whose wings and scales had been turned black. No, these dragons were the bad ones. Survivors of the last dragon war. Soldiers for evil.

  “You sound bitter,” Nath said. “Perhaps you can still taste my father’s victory, shoved down your throats centuries ago.”

  Bright orange eyes flashed. Great bellies swelled.

  “Your father is far from innocent,” the first one said, lashing out with his tail to snap a tree in half. “He’s every bit the murderer the rest of us are.”

  Murderer?

  “That’s absurd,” Nath said, “And I’d expect nothing short of lies coming from the tongue of an over-sized lizard.” He stepped forward, pointing. “Did my father bust those horns of yours? Why is one eye half shut? And you,” he pointed to the second. “You’ve got scales missing from your belly and your hide. And half your claws are missing. Did you bite them off from the shear fear of his presence?”

  The dragon pair glanced at one another, but no expression changed on their scaled faces. Nath could feel some confusion, however. Such terrifying creatures weren’t accustomed to anything challenging them. Lava started to drip from their mouths.

  “Today you will die, Nath Dragon,” the first said, drawing back a sneer.

  “Yes, die,” said the second. “Prepare yourself.”

  “No, prepare your—”

  Claws swiped the ground.

  Nath leapt high, b
ut caught the full force of a whipping tail. He tumbled through the air and smashed into a tree with bone-jarring force. Thunder came his way, shaking the ground. The first bull dragon pounced at him. He sprang underneath it, rolled onto his back, and swung. Fang clipped its armor-plated belly scales, drawing an angry growl.

  He scrambled away, sword ready. The second dragon cut into his path. A whoosh of flames erupted from its mouth, lighting up the night. The scorching heat was suffocating. Nath charged with Fang held high, bursting through the flames, yelling, “Dragon! Dragon!”

  He chopped claws from its hand.

  The great beast recoiled back. Making an ear-splitting roar, it crashed through the trees in the forest and destroyed everything in its path. Nath’s scales were smoking, his face and hair singed, but he lived. He was the Dragon Prince.

  A shadow fell over his shoulder. He twisted around.

  Stomp!

  The first dragon pinned his body to the ground underneath its clawed foot. Nath lost his breath. It started grinding him into the ground.

  “It seems the cat has caught the mouse,” it said.

  His sword arm was free, but his feeble strikes were useless.

  “Scratch me all you can,” it said, licking its lips, “you’ll be dead in seconds.” Golden lava dripped through the cracks in its teeth. “And I thought the Dragon King’s son would be a challenge. It seems he didn’t have you prepared.”

  Nath struggled and strained. His efforts were in vain. He didn’t have the size or the leverage. His grip began to slip from his sword.

  The bull dragon pushed him deeper into the dirt.

  “Die, Dragon Prince! Die!”

  Lava dripped onto Fang’s blade and sizzled on the metal.

  Help me, Fang! Help me!

  With tremendous effort, he took one last swing, nicking Fang’s tip between the dragon’s steel-hard scales.

  The great blade hummed with life. The steel flared like a star. The sound grew louder and louder.

  The first dragon lurched.

  “What!”

  Nath pointed Fang right at it.

  “Stop that!” it growled. Stop that!”

  The sound grew and lashed out.

  WRAAAAAAANG! WRAAAAAANG! WRAAAAAANG!

  The vibration caught the first dragon’s outspread wings and sent it sailing into the forest.

  Nath crawled out of the dirt. Fang poured it on.

  WRAAAAAAANG! WRAAAAAANG! WRAAAAAANG!

  Leaves and pine needles scattered. Rocks flew through the air. Trees bent, cracked, and shivered. All the while, the mystical sound pounded into the second dragon. Its roars could not be heard. Even its thrashing was muted.

  WRAAAAAAANG! WRAAAAAANG!

  The blade winked out. The sound was over.

  The first dragon rolled through the toppled timbers, blinking and dazed.

  “Thank you, Fang!” Nath caught his breath. “Now finish it!” He had just started his charge when his senses exploded. He jerked around.

  Whap!

  The second dragon’s tail separated Nath’s paw from his sword. He went careening into the forest with stars exploding inside his head. Swordless, he rose to his feet and gaped at his empty dragon paws. Fang was nowhere to be seen. He rubbed his aching chest, swearing he could hear his bones rattle. Nearby, the dragons rummaged the forest, searching for the spot where the dragon’s tail had flung him.

  What do I do now?

  He felt something in his tunic, a vial from the dwarven chest remained sealed and unbroken.

  Thank the dwarves and their iron glass.

  He drank the entirety of the sparkling blue contents and tossed the vial aside.

  I hope this works.

  Both dragons appeared with angry looks on their monstrous faces.

  Fast!

  “Where is your toothpick, little dragon?” the second one said, waving at him its paw whose claws were missing. “I want to skewer and roast you on it.”

  A tail lashed out in a downward arc.

  Nath jumped aside and scurried deeper into the woods.

  The dragons bounded after him, crushing everything in their path. They were big, but also fast. Their monstrous strides caught up with Nath in seconds and hemmed him in. Their tails struck like cedars, smiting everything around him.

  The ground shook.

  Nath jumped. Dove. Dodged.

  Whop! Whop! Whop! Whop!

  Their tails beat the ground like striking snakes and cut him off wherever he jumped or dived. It was two cats toying with a mouse, and he had nothing to defend himself. He cleared one tail and got hammered by another. Its strike was planned. Well timed. It flattened him on the ground. A massive paw pushed his body into the dirt.

  “Time is up, Dragon Prince,” the first one said, scooping him up in its claws. “Now we feast on your bones.” Its tongue licked over its lips, and lava dripped from its jaws. “But I have to share with my brother, so we’ll need to split you apart.”

  Nath squirmed and strained, but the dragon’s great strength kept him restrained.

  Sultans of Sulfur!

  “No, Brother,” the second dragon said, sitting back on its haunches. “You eat him. I enjoy the sound of crunched bones. Feast, Brother. Feast. We don’t want this slippery one to get away.”

  “So be it then,” the first dragon said. He held Nath up and gazed in his eyes and shook him vigorously. “I don’t like my meals staring at me.” It slammed Nath onto the ground and hammered on him with its fist a few times. “And I don’t like my meat too chewy either. Needs softened up a bit.” It smiled. “Now, let the feast begin.”

  Nath’s head rolled along his shoulders. His red hair was mattered to his head, and blood dripped from his nose. His face was swollen. His lips split. He hurt. He ached. But he wasn’t done yet.

  “I don’t think you got me soft enough. I don’t think you broke a single bone,” he sputtered through his lips. “You ugly over-sized lizard.”

  “Is that so?” it said, eyes narrowing. “We’ll see about that.” It opened its mouth wide and stuffed Nath inside.

  Chomp!

  CHAPTER 9

  “I know there have been many battles,” Shum had said, “but the one coming might be the most important of all.”

  The Elven Steeds cut through the woodland with the ease of a straight path. Ben found himself hanging on for his life. He’d never ridden on a horse so fast, let alone with two people on it in the darkness. It assured him of one thing … the Roaming Rangers were good company, and he was glad to be among them.

  I need one of these horses.

  An hour into the ride, they slowed and came to a halt. He squinted in the dimness. Bayzog and Shum strolled along at his and Hoven’s side. Bayzog had a weary look in his violet eyes.

  “Are you well, Bayzog?” Ben asked.

  “Well enough, just weak.” Bayzog grimaced. “This riding jars my legs, but I’ll make it. Much better than walking so far.”

  Brenwar reared his horse around and said, “Why are we stopping fer? Time’s wasting.”

  Shum held up his hand and tilted his head, saying, “I heard something.”

  “Over all the riding?” Ben asked.

  “A moment of quiet please,” Shum said.

  The Elven Roaming Rangers sat poised in their saddles like dark statues. Unmoving and stony. If he didn’t know they were there, he’d probably walk right by them. He noticed Bayzog perk up and bend his ear towards the sky.

  Am I missing something?

  He cupped his ear and closed his eyes. It bothered him, the better senses the other races had. They could see better in the dark and hear trickles and scuffles where none could be heard. He continually had to find ways to improvise.

  A minute went by, maybe two, and when he was about to pull his hand from his ear, he heard something. East, farther downriver, a howl, maybe a roar erupted in the woods. His heart started pounding. It sounded big. Huge perhaps. Goosebumps rose on his arms.

  “That
’s where Nath is,” Brenwar growled.

  “How do you know?” Ben said

  “Only Nath could make something that mad.” Brenwar wheeled his horse around. “And we better get over there before that monster kills him. Ee-Yah!”

  CHAPTER 10

  Still dazed, Nath felt something stir inside him. Outside of him, something else stirred. The dragon had him wedged inside its mouth. Its great teeth ground at his scales. The pressure was building, and his body popped and cracked. He screamed.

  The dragon shook him.

  Nath punched its nose with all the power he had. He could feel the dragon’s throaty laughter.

  I can’t go like this. I can’t!

  His stomach buckled and knotted. Something inside him grew and stirred. He let out an awful bellow. His limbs popped and stretched.

  The dragon’s bone-splintering pressure eased.

  Nath felt magic course through him. The potion had ignited and was rushing through his blood. He expanded. Head, torso, and limbs groaned and enlarged. He caught the second dragon’s bewildered look and watched it back off.

  “What trick is this!” the first dragon thought, releasing Nath from its jaws.

  Nath convulsed and thrashed.

  The dragons backed away.

  Finally, the stretching stopped. He gathered his feet under him and stood erect.

  “Sweet Salamanders!”

  He was a tower. A great wall. He grabbed a tree and ripped it from the ground.

  “COME, DRAGONS,” Nath beckoned, looking down in their eyes. “THE BATTLE ISN’T FINISHED YET.” His voice thundered. “AND WHEN IT’S OVER, PERHAPS I’LL EAT YOU.” He swung the tree like a club into the haunches of the first dragon. It scurried and hissed.

  Nath laughed. He was bigger than them. Taller by a head. He was a man fighting two giant lizards.

  A geyser of flame erupted from the second dragon’s mouth, burning into the scales on Nath’s legs. He couldn’t contain his scream. Angered, he spit his own larger geyser of flame right into its face. It thrashed in the flames.

  The first dragon’s great tail swept Nath’s feet out from under him. The pair of giants wrestled back and forth. Trees fell. Rocks crumbled behind their bulk. It wrapped its tail around Nath’s neck. Nath locked his claws around its throat and squeezed with all his power.