Robert Keller - The Hand of Tharnin

If Lannon had indeed gained the use of Dark Wave, could he use it again to help defeat the Dragon? He felt thoroughly drained, and he doubted he could summon even a trace of it. Also, it had seemed to appear on its own, in reaction to the extreme presence of the Deep Shadow. Lannon suspected it was a force he would never be able to call upon at will or control.

After a long and frightful journey through the fog, in which the strange shadows lurched out at him frantically yet never touched him, Lannon at last climbed from the pit and into the cavern of Dorok's Hand.

Lannon stood by the edge of the hole for a moment to catch his breath, and then he spotted Vorden-who lay slumped against the wall. And in the tunnel that led from the cavern, Lannon saw the broken bodies of some Legion Soldiers lying about. Lannon hurried over to Vorden and knelt by him. Vorden's armor was split open and he was sitting in a pool of blood.

In spite of everything, Lannon's heart lurched the sight of his fallen friend. He shook him, and Vorden opened his eyes. "What happened to you?"

Vorden gave him a pained smile. "The Dragon went crazy and attacked me and some of the Soldiers. Guess it wasn't so easy to control after all. Did Tenneth Bard manage to convert you? Are you on my side now?"

"I think I killed him," said Lannon.

Vorden sighed. "A lot of planning for nothing, then. Why are you so foolishly stubborn? You deny yourself a far better life. Anyway, I haven't quite healed yet. Now is your chance to finish me off."

Lannon rose. "I never wanted to kill you, Vorden. And I won't do so now, even though you served me to Tenneth Bard on a platter."

Vorden chuckled. "Of course. How endlessly noble you are."

"How can we defeat the Dragon?" Lannon asked, his heart fluttering with panic. "There has to be a way!"

Vorden shook his head. "Just stay here, Lannon. If you go out there, you'll get yourself killed. The Great Dragons of Tharnin are invincible."

"I defeated Tenneth Bard," Lannon pointed out.

"But Tenneth Bard is a man," said Vorden. "Very old and powerful, but still just a man. A Dragon is something beyond the comprehension of mortals-as old as time itself and without a weakness.""

With a groan, Vorden rose to his feet. He stood swaying for a moment, and then the stones of the Hand of Tharnin glowed with their cold blue fire. Vorden seemed to regain his strength, and he clenched the gauntlet into a fist. "You're not going anywhere, Lannon. The Dragon will do what I summoned it to do-which is kill every last Knight of Dremlock."

"And Legion Soldiers too, by the look of it," said Lannon, pointing at the dead bodies in the tunnel. "It will destroy everyone!"

Vorden shrugged. "I don't care if a few Soldiers die-as long as Dremlock is brought to the ground."

Lannon started toward the tunnel, but Vorden seized his arm with the gauntlet. "Didn't you hear what I just said? You're not going anywhere!"

***

The first wave of Goblins reached Furlus and the two Squires before the Red Knights could gather around them. But Furlus was ready. He leapt from his horse onto a Jackal and split the creature in two with his axe. Jerret beheaded another one that tried to knock him off his horse, and Aldreya lit two of them on fire with her dagger. And then the Red Knights were there, some of them thrusting their lances into the snow and drawing swords and axes for close combat.

Three Pit Crawlers and a number of Goblin Wolves had also entered the fray, as well as four Ogres. The hissing Pit Crawlers struck at Knights left and right, bringing some of them down with their deadly poison. One Knight was lifted by an Ogre and strangled to death in the air, before being flung into the snow. Another Ogre, pierced by burning lances, went berserk and started swinging its club-like fists at whoever was in range-including other Goblins.

"Burn the Dragon!" Furlus howled at Vannas.

But the prince was already attempting to do just that. He held the White Flamestone in his cupped hands, and the blinding beam of energy that radiated from it struck the Dragon repeatedly. But the Dragon would not remain still long enough for the white fire to damage it. It kept moving about-attacking Knights, Legion Soldiers (those who hadn't yet escaped into the keep and some who decided to join the Divine Knights in fighting the Dragon), and Goblins. Wherever it flew, it left dead bodies from its flailing stingers.

Vannas cried out in frustration, turning constantly in the saddle and trying to lock onto his target. Meanwhile, the Goblins closed in on him from all sides-including from the sky-in an effort to dislodge the Flamestone from his hand. At one point a Vulture swooped down and almost pulled it loose, but Aldreya struck the creature with a fireball from her dagger and it flew off leaving a trail of smoke. The Dragon, however, didn't seem to acknowledge Vannas as a threat-aside from darting away whenever Vannas' white fire made contract with it. It simply killed whoever was in its path, as if carrying out some mindless command of destruction.

Due to the chaos caused by the Dragon, the Goblins were able to break through Vannas' outer defenses-to find Jace, Thrake, Shennen, Trenton, and Furlus waiting for them. The four Knights and the towering sorcerer slew many Goblins between them, but Trenton wore down quickly from his injuries. Three Jackals and a Wolf finally managed to isolate and surrounded Trenton. They leapt onto him, ripping away his sword and bearing him down into the snow.

Jerret was close to Trenton when the Investigator went down, and the Squire jumped from his horse and rushed over to help. Trenton was lost from view beneath four furry Goblins that were ripping and tearing at him. For an instant, Jerret thought Trenton Shadowbane was going to be torn to pieces.

And then the Goblins were flung viciously away from Trenton as if struck with a battering ram. Where the Investigator had once been, the hideous wolf-monster rose up from the snow, its muzzle and claws dripping blood.

Jerret shrank back, but Trenton bounded right past the Squire and threw himself into a crowd of Goblins, his claws slashing out with devastating force. Jerret found himself suddenly very grateful that Trenton was on his side.

A Jackal leapt over Furlus' head and flew toward Vannas, but Jace caught the beast in midair and wrestled it down into the snow. The sorcerer's huge fist rose and fell upon his foe like a hammer, crushing its skull.

Nevertheless, the Knights were having an extremely difficult time protecting Vannas, and the prince was nearly knocked from his horse more than once. Some of the Red Knights hurled their heavy, burning Lances against the Dragon, but the weapons simply bounced harmlessly off its scales. The sorcerers tried to burn the beast with thrown fire from their blades, but that too had no apparent affect on it. Meanwhile, the dead were piling up in the snow-those that weren't hanging from the Dragon's stingers as it hovered. The landscape was littered with dead and injured Knights, Goblins, Legion Soldiers, and Greywind horses.

"Vannas, hurry and kill that Dragon!" Furlus roared at him, his blood-soaked axe rising and falling with insane fury.

His face contorted in anxiety and frustration, Vannas rose up in the saddle and tried to get a better angle on the Dragon-just as a Goblin Wolf darted around a Red Knight, leapt through the air, and seized the White Flamestone in its mouth. It landed in the snow and fled, smoke billowing from its jaws.

"They've taken it!" Vannas howled, motioning desperately at the fleeing Wolf. In his panic, the prince nearly toppled from the saddle.

"Trenton!" Furlus cried. "Don't let it escape!"

But Trenton, or the wolf-monster he'd become, was already bounding after the fleeing Goblin. He quickly dragged it down from behind. The White Flamestone flew from the Wolf's jaws and was caught in the air by one of the Ogres, who then tried to flee toward the caves with it, its long legs taking it swiftly through the snow. But the Ogre ran too close to the Dragon, and a stinger shot out and buried itself in the Ogre's neck. The giant took a few staggering steps, looking uncertain and clutching at the dark tube that ran from its neck. Then it collapsed into the snow, the White Flamestone still clutched in its fist.