Key of Living Fire (The Sword of the Dragon) (7 page)

Tempted. Specter did feel tempted to leave. Who wouldn’t? After all these years serving the prophets, serving God, he could lead a life of his own. He could pursue friendships—even love. The moment passed. Inwardly he smiled. But he bowed to the mighty white dragon. Loyalty, peace, selflessness, mercy—these virtues and more flowed through his soul because of this holy one. He would serve—once more. “I made my choice all those years ago to defend the innocent and uphold the righteous.” He smote the stone floor with his scythe’s handle, willing his garment to render him invisible. The cloak shimmered, blended into his surroundings, and he watched as Dantress Starfire stood. He would watch over her as if she were his own daughter. But safeguarding her would be easier if she had no knowledge of his presence.

“Father,” Dantress said, rubbing her tired eyes. She curtsied before the white dragon, and the creature rumbled deep and long.

Albino’s pink eyes shone through the mask of light that rose from his facial scales to hide his deformity. He was the picture of raw, natural power held within an equally powerful body. “My child,” the dragon said. “Since the day you lost your earthly life, you have sought to be near your husband at every opportunity. But seeing you would prevent Ilfedo from reaching his potential. His distracted state of mind would ultimately lead to the demise of thy child.”

Dantress hung her head, and Specter thought he heard a sob escape her lips.

The dragon raised her chin with the edge of his claw and sighed. “I have a task for you that will be exceedingly difficult, but it must be done. The Key of Living Fire is in jeopardy, and I cannot enter the Hidden Realm. It is my desire to send you there—but this mission must be undertaken by Ilfedo as well. I will send him to join you. Yet you must not reveal yourself to him during your mission.”

Closing her eyes, the woman shook her head from side to side.

The dragon growled and lowered its head to gaze into her eyes. “Would you rather I send another? Is this task above thee? Tell me the truth, Daughter.”

“No, Father.” With a bow Dantress opened her eyes, gazed up at the creature. “I will go and secure the power of Living Fire.”

“Very well.” Albino summarized his encounter with the witch at the portal. The aura round his face pulsed with white light, then shimmered. When he had finished his tale, the dragon pulled her to his chest in an embrace. His massive scaled hands hid her from view for that moment. “God be with you, my daughter.”

Dantress stood away from the dragon and bowed. Her hair erupted into flames. Specter, knowing what must come next, stepped close to her. Maybe she heard the rustle of his cloak or felt the air move as he reached to touch her flaming skirt. Her eyes glanced through him, but she shook her head and her visage roiled violent flames. He felt like breathing a relieved sigh that she hadn’t detected his presence, yet he held it in. Starfire held her hand to her cheek and closed her eyes. The flames licked at her and swirled. A tornado of fire surrounded Specter and her.

The chamber around them seemed to melt like wax. The flames filled the space around them until he floated in a universe of fire. Starfire opened her eyes, and he was startled by the fierce wildness he saw there. Her lips parted and a flame rolled off her tongue. The flame carved a black hole in the wall of fire around them, and the hole expanded until, through it, he saw the ancient forest tree and the ruins wherein lay the portal to the Hidden Realm.

Into that vision a figure stepped from the fire. A man as brilliant as Yimshi and robed in white stood between Starfire and the ancient ruins. Starfire dropped to one knee and lowered her gaze as the man strode toward her. Specter felt awe overcome him, and he almost bowed beside her. Then he remembered what the other angels had told him, and in his heart he knew that mankind should not pay homage to any angel—only to God himself. The angel’s face dimmed, and he smiled down at Starfire, apparently unaware of Specter standing beside her. He should have seen through Specter’s disguise. Yet he focused his gaze on the dragon’s daughter.

“Child of the mighty prophet, why do you seek passage to this place? Did God tell you to go here?” He glanced at the portal she had formed, questioning the destination, but perhaps not the journey.

Starfire glanced up at the angel. “I go to secure the power of Living Fire and find the witch who desires its secret.”

The angel shook his head. His brilliant countenance hurt Specter’s eyes. He stepped within feet of the dragon’s daughter and said, “I am Moroni, and I say to you that your true mission lies elsewhere. Turn from this quest and follow me. I will show thee what the Lord would have you do.”

Starfire stood with a gentle shake of her head. “Though you are an angel, I cannot be swayed from this path. The prophet has set me on this quest. Into the Hidden Realm I will go—because I must.”

“Because you must.” The angel frowned. “Look into your heart, Dantress. God knows it better than you yourself. Ask yourself, what is your greatest motivation to pass through the portal? You believe you go to serve God’s will and save humanity. You deceive yourself. What other reason drives you more than the love of a man and the hope of seeing him soon? If you go to the Hidden Realm now, at this moment, an innocent life will be lost—a life that I am willing to show thee how to save.”

Moroni reached into the flames surrounding them. His fingers twirled them until a spot of darkness appeared. The darkness grew, expanding like a window. Through it a forest appeared. Lush green trees spaced wide apart. Heavy rain poured from the lightning-cracked sky.

“Ah, look closely,” the angel said. He pointed a finger at the forest’s midst, and the image magnified the base of a broad tree. Rivulets of water ran along the grassy ground. Beneath the tree lay a dark-haired woman with a bleeding leg. The fringe of her skirt had gotten torn, and beside her stood a young boy grasping a knife in his tiny hand. Tears flowed from the boy’s eyes. Beside the mother lay a mountain lion, apparently dead. “Without your help—” Moroni lowered his arm and gazed upon Starfire.

A flame rolled off the dragon daughter’s tongue and burrowed into the new portal. The wall of fire swept away the portal to the clearing with the ancient tree and the gateway to the Hidden Realm. The flames roared around the image of the little boy and his mother. Specter looked upon the wounded mother and the little boy. Without a doubt he would have done the same. The innocent must be saved before they entered the Hidden Realm.

Rain pelted Starfire and Specter as their feet rested in the sodden forest. The angel had vanished. Starfire crouched next to the weeping boy. The child’s eyes just about popped as he looked at her. His sobs ceased.

“It will be all right, child.”

Specter watched the dragon’s daughter pull the child to her flaming chest. His waterlogged trousers and shirt steamed until he appeared mostly dry. She touched the woman’s leg, examined the tooth marks, and closed her eyes. Flames played from her fingertips over the wound. The flesh closed and the skin grew over the wound. Not even a scar remained. The little boy, no more than five years of age, dropped the knife.

“Be calm, child. She will be fine.” Starfire stroked the lad’s blond hair and smiled.

The child returned her gaze and wiped his sleeve across his face, then sniffled. With a stiff lift of his arm, he pointed at the mountain lion.

Starfire whispered, “You killed it?” And she hugged the child to her bosom.

She remained there for the next half hour. At last, the woman on the ground moaned. Her eyes blinked open, and the little boy spun out of Starfire’s embrace and laughed. “Auntie Bray!”

Flames roiled around Starfire, and Specter grabbed her skirt just in time for the flames to engulf both of them. The rain ceased; the forest disappeared. All around them rose walls of fire without heat. And before them stood the angel.

Moroni’s face beamed. “Well done, child. You have followed the path of mercy and found truth and reward in a small quest. Yet now I have another word for thee: The prophets have been deceived. They have lived too long among the fallen in this world. But we, the angels of God, have seen the pure and righteous Lord himself. His throne is from everlasting to everlasting. His kingdom is above all others, and he executes justice on the world through the righteous. Though the prophets desire to know the heavenly mysteries, they cannot. For the mysteries of heaven are reserved to heavenly beings.”

Specter frowned. Could it be true? Had the prophets been deceived? If so, then all that he was doing would mean nothing. What if by leaving Letrias alone they allowed him to prepare for a final towering deed of evil? No! It could not be. Albino and Patient served God’s will. Their hearts were humble and pure. Time had tested their allegiance. They stood true. He had trusted them and would continue to. Who was this angel to make him question that?

“The quest indeed brought me great reward. To save an innocent life brings greater joy to me than a thousand fallen wizards. What would you have me do, Moroni?” he heard Starfire say. Her flames diminished, leaving them in impenetrable darkness.

The glowing angel extended his hand. “If your desire is to save your husband and prevent Letrias from destroying your child, should you not go to the villain himself? His minions are spreading over Subterran like wildfires. They crop up in every corner, all with Letrias’s edict in their minds. They will stop at nothing to kill the man you love. But if Letrias falls, then so, too, will his followers.”

Flames leaped from Starfire’s hair and again engulfed her. The angel narrowed his blue eyes down at her, and another flame rolled off her tongue. “I prayed to God, asking him to give me another life. I want to live among those I love, not as a phantom but as a wife and mother.”

“Dear child,” the angel said, “I have been sent to grant thy desires. You
will
be joined with your husband—soon. But first this final task you must undertake. The choice is yours: follow the path to the Hidden Realm, where every hope of rejoining your husband will be extinguished forever, or follow me to the Valley of Death and terminate the perpetrator himself.”

Starfire laid her small hand in the angel’s. A smile filled the angel’s face as the flame from Starfire’s tongue opened a new doorway, a window to a place Specter had never before seen. A vast valley opened before them. Dark towers rose from the charred ground, and lava flowed in numerous streams. Not a single being was in sight. At the valley’s center, the lava streams fell into a broad river of the same. An iron bridge crossed the river a hundred feet above it. At the bridge’s end, a single metal door rested in the hillside.

Horror filled Specter. He tried to scream “No!” above the roaring flames as Starfire transported them to that dark place. But his voice was lost to the flames.
Dear God, help us. She is fall
ing into a trap.

Then Moroni glanced at him. Hatred oozed from the fallen being like a sickening stream of poison.

Starfire turned and, seemingly for the first time, she could see Specter. He struggled to speak; he wanted to tell her to turn around. Her beautiful, innocent eyes regarded him, and he lipped, “He is a false messenger!”

Her eyes startled wide and she faced the angel. Moroni laughed and vanished. The walls of fire collapsed—and Specter’s feet rested on the floor of the Valley of Death.

“Xavion!” Starfire glanced around the silent valley. Flames played across her face and along her arms as she turned to him and bit her lip. “What have I done?”

Suddenly the valley seemed to erupt around them. Hidden doors in the valley floor swung open, and a host of darkly cloaked figures swarmed forth. On all sides the cloaked figures rushed toward them. He was standing near the iron bridge. Heat waves rose from the lava river. The iron door across the river opened, and more cloaked figures raced at him across the bridge. Specter could see no path of escape. The host numbered in the thousands. A third of their number wielded swords, another third of their number held scythes in their hands, and the remaining number strode forward, smiting their black staffs against the ground. Dark energy sizzled along the ground where the staffs struck.

A chill ran down Specter’s spine. A wizard force of this magnitude he had not seen since the days of Hermenuedis. And from the size of the force now coming toward him and the dragon’s daughter, he could imagine that more wizards had yet to reveal themselves. He shoved Starfire to the ground and she cried out. “Stay low!” he ordered as he spread his feet wide. He slipped out of his cloak, dropped it next to her, and gritted his teeth.

Eleven scythe-wielding opponents drew near. The rest of the host ran a couple of hundred feet behind them. He collided bodily with the first two and swung his scythe wide. His blade impaled one in the chest. The other fell to the ground, and he slammed his boot into the man’s throat. But a sharp pain smote his back, and he stumbled forward to the ground. He rolled, seeking an escape as three others swung at him. But a wizard’s staff struck his chest, and he knelt, gasping for breath. His lungs ached, and warm blood dripped down his back.