The Trials of Lance Eliot (27 page)

“Is that you, Lance Eliot?”

The voice was familiar, but I couldn't remember where I had heard it. The figure advanced into the room. I sat up and gasped, unable to believe my eyes.

Kana Shoukan was beaming at me from across the room.

“But you're dead, or else I'm dead,” I gasped. “Are we both dead?”

“You are not dead,” he said. “Neither am I, but we have no time for explanations. Come with me, and proceed silently.”

I followed in a dream. It's finally happened, I thought. I've lost my mind.

We walked quickly but quietly. Kana kept a hand on the wall, gazing at the floor ahead of him. He seemed to be looking for something. We came to a place where the corridor branched into two paths. On the floor lay a thin white ribbon. If Kana hadn't stooped to pick it up, I wouldn't have noticed it.

He motioned with his hand for me to follow as he took the right-hand path. I kept stumbling. It was dark, and my legs were stiff and cold. When we came to a niche in the wall, we slipped into it and sat down.

“Rub your legs,” he said. “We have a long walk ahead of us.”

“This is really happening, isn't it?”

“Hush!”

Two minutes of massage restored most of the feeling to my legs. Kana pulled me to my feet, and we stole out of the niche and down the corridor. Akrabbim was a labyrinth, and it was almost too dark to see. I would have lost myself in a minute without Kana's steady guidance. He occasionally paused to retrieve white ribbons. I surmised he had left them as markers to indicate a way out.

As we crept along, I saw something moving in the darkness before us. For a moment I was convinced we had been caught by Maldos or its puppets. To my relief—well,
relief
may not be the right word—it was a cluster of scorpions. I've never liked scorpions, and these were enough to give anyone nightmares. The smallest was at least two or three inches long. It took all of my self-restraint to keep from shrieking when one of them scuttled across my foot.

“Have courage,” murmured Kana. “We are almost out.”

The floor began to slope upward. I had almost begun to hope we might actually escape when a sound drifted down the corridor. I heard it and felt cold panic grip my heart. It was the pattering sound of fast footsteps.

“Run,” said Kana.

We bolted.

The sound of footsteps grew louder until it was like the roar of an ocean behind us. I kept my eyes to the floor, trying not to tread on scorpions or trip on the uneven stone. At last we turned a corner to see the path rising steeply into the dark. “The exit is at the top of the slope,” panted Kana.

I have never run faster. Passing Kana, I galloped up the incline at a speed that would have shamed any athlete. Hardly was I aware of the doorway before I passed through it and burst into the open air. I paused. If Kana didn't appear, I was the only one who could help him. I looked at the doorway, a stone maw opening into endless dark. I didn't think I could enter it again.

To my indescribable relief, Kana emerged from the doorway at a run.

“Come,” he said, seizing my shoulder and dragging me along with him.

I don't know for how long we ran. A little distance from the doorway, a dirt road rose from the bottom of the gorge and zigzagged its way to the land above. We ran along this road, all uphill, until we had climbed out of Akrabbim. I collapsed on the withered grass on the edge of the gorge. Never mind what horrors were pursuing us. I couldn't take another step until I had regained my breath.

“We have earned a short reprieve, I think,” said Kana, sitting next to me. “I left a pack with supplies in a farmhouse a quarter-league in that direction,” he added, pointing. “In a moment, you must run to the farmhouse and wait for me there.”

Now that the danger had passed, or seemed to have passed, I began to cry.

“Have peace,” he said, putting a hand on my shoulder. “The worst is over. You will wait in the farmhouse, and I will return for Tsurugi.”

“Tsurugi is dead,” I sobbed. “Kana, Tsurugi is dead.”

“Then my fears are realized.” Kana sounded tired. “I hoped it would not be so. Tsurugi Kanben was a good man. May El show him mercy.”

Hateful laughter began to ring in my ears. It was joined by the other dreadful sounds of the Darkness, but the most dreadful sound of all, the patter of footsteps, we did not hear. After a short rest, we rose to our feet and began the trek to the farmhouse. I felt a little better. My heart had slowed to a steady beat. My terror was subsiding.

As we walked through a field of dead cornstalks, we heard the sound of crashing rock echoing in the gorge of Akrabbim.

“Was that a landslide?” I asked.

Kana's reply was drowned out by a long and piercing shriek. I turned and stared into the darkness. “What was that?”

“Do not stop. Whatever it may be, we can take refuge in the cellar of the farmhouse.”

We pressed on, trying to ignore the
crack
of splitting stones and the shrieks that seemed to sway the cornstalks around us. We came to a level area, the faded remains of a watermelon field, where there was no cover.

“Let's stay here,” I whispered. “We can hide in the corn.”

The noises grew louder. The dark was lit by flashes of fire. A shape materialized in the shadows behind us. It was a very large shape.

To put it simply, it was another dragon.

This dragon was much bigger than the last. I don't know whether it was quite fifty feet long, as Regis had estimated the largest dragons to be; it was too dark to tell. The dragon blew great billows of fire that lit up everything for an instant like bolts of lightning. It was a terrifying sight, but my terror didn't keep me from noticing how stiffly the dragon moved. In fact, it was moving like—dash it all, it was moving just like a puppet.

“It's Necromancy,” I hissed. “Maldos is controlling the dragon.”

“Do not move,” said Kana. “Do not speak. It may not notice us in the dark.”

There were more billows of flame, and then the crackling sound of something burning. Thick smoke covered us. I started coughing. Fire blossomed from the ground nearby.

“We have to move,” I said, pulling Kana by the arm. “It set the field on fire.”

We tumbled into the remains of the watermelon field as the cornstalks dissolved into flame. Kana lay next to me. I shook him. “Come on, we need to find another field.”

He didn't move.

I began to curse under my breath, tears gathering in my eyes, and checked for a pulse. He was alive. I stopped cursing. Whether he had bumped his head or passed out from smoke inhalation I didn't know. It didn't matter. I was alone.

As I turned Kana over on his back, I felt a hard lump in one of his pockets. It was a metal case. I opened it and felt a hysterical urge to laugh. It was full of shuriken.

The dragon crashed through the blazing cornfield, scattering cinders like thousands of fireflies. I took the shuriken and ran, waving my arms and shouting, hoping to draw the dragon away from Kana.

My friend, I hope you see how profoundly I was affected by this adventure. Three months before, I would not have dreamed of confronting a dragon, let alone trying to draw its attention to myself. My time in Gea had changed me. Rather, to be more precise, my time with my friends had changed me. It was impossible to spend time with people like Tsurugi and Regis without some of their selflessness rubbing off on me, I suppose.

The dragon was quick to notice the paltry human hurling insults at it. It lunged forward. Then something odd occurred. It checked itself and drew back, as though it had suddenly remembered that humans were high in cholesterol or saturated fat. It wavered for a moment, then shook itself and lumbered toward me.

The human mind is an amazing thing. I was dizzy with fear, blinded by bright flashes of flame and choking on thick smoke, yet I found myself analyzing the situation with a logic and clarity that would have made Sherlock Holmes proud.

If Maldos was controlling the dragon, it wouldn't kill me. The Necromancer needed me alive to open a passage between Gea and Terra. The dragon, however, seemed intent on roasting me. This could only mean one thing. It had shaken off the controlling influence of Maldos. The dragon was now a beast in search of food.

I threw a shuriken at the dragon. It missed completely. Cursing fluently, I carefully took aim with another shuriken and sent it whizzing toward the dragon's face. It lodged in the scales above its eye. The dragon gave a roar and reared up on its hind legs.

Then I remembered everything I had ever read about dragons. In the stories, they always had soft underbellies. I threw another shuriken. It struck the dragon's abdomen and fell to the ground. So much for that idea. The dragon dropped onto its forelegs, opened its mouth and spit out a blast of fire. I could feel my clothes burning as I rolled out of the way.

I circled the dragon, throwing shuriken after shuriken, trying desperately to find some weak point. It was difficult to take aim in the dark. The dragon continued to breathe out fire. Its tail, which bristled with spikes, whipped round once and nearly pinned me to the ground.

An idea occurred to me. It was dangerous—
suicidal
may be a more appropriate word—but it was all I had. I was exhausted. My eyes stung from the smoke. I couldn't stop coughing. I had nothing to lose, and yet, as I have already noted, when we have nothing to lose is often when we win.

I stopped running.

The dragon crashed toward me, stopped about twenty feet away and regarded me with crazed yellow eyes. It was close, close enough for me to see its scales shining as it snorted spurts of flame. For that moment I was no longer aware of Kana's body, the death of Tsurugi or anything else in all creation. All my attention was fixed on the dragon.

At last, when I thought I could stand it no longer, it opened its mouth. It was like looking into a furnace. The dragon inhaled, preparing to spew forth a torrent of flame, and I threw a shuriken.

It passed through the roof of the dragon's mouth and into its head. The dragon faltered, blew out a brief spurt of fire and fell over on its side. One of its legs twitched. Then it lay still.

My friend, we have known each other for many years. In all our long friendship, I bet you never suspected I once equaled old Saint George and slew a dragon.

Casting aside the shuriken case, I ran back to the field where I had left Kana. I couldn't find him. The Darkness was too thick. I shouted, and was on the verge of tears when I heard a faint reply. Before long I had found him.

“Where is the dragon?” he asked, holding his head.

“It's dead,” I said. “I borrowed your shuriken.”

He laughed. I joined him, and for a minute our mirth rang loud and clear against the diabolical cackle of the Darkness.

We resumed our trudge toward the farmhouse. In spite of my exhaustion and sorrow, I couldn't help chuckling, “Just wait until Regis hears about this.”

17

LANCE ELIOT AND THE REUNION

WE REACHED THE FARMHOUSE and retrieved Kana's pack.

“Maldos must know we're here,” I groaned. “We can't stay. Hang it, I'm so hungry.”

“Perhaps we could delay our departure until we have had a meal,” said Kana. “Before we do anything, I must apologize.”

“Whatever for?”

“Lance Eliot, I am so sorry. None of this should ever have happened. Our problems were never your affair. We should never have dragged you into it. Your sufferings are entirely our fault.”

“Forget it,” I said, smiling in the dark. “Just a mistake, and even the best of us make mistakes. Believe me. I know.”

We had a small meal, though it was a feast as far as I was concerned. There was bread (stale but edible) and dried meat and fresh water.

Kana and I took turns talking during the meal. I was eager to find out how he had escaped the destruction of Faurum.

“The story is shortly told,” he said. “The Nomen destroyed the villages around the city and built war machines with timbers torn from the ruins. The siege began. They pressed against the wall every night, leaving us to number our dead as day broke. Almost all of our soldiers were killed or wounded. The Nomen poured into Faurum like a flood, only to discover that by that time the city was almost empty.