Wayne Batson - The Final Storm

“Kaliam?” Robby asked. “Why did you ask me about what I saw? I mean, it seems like you expected me to have seen something.”

“Yes, Sir Robby, I did expect it,” Kaliam replied, but he did not elaborate.

“Is there something wrong?” Robby asked, growing concerned. “Have I done something wrong?”

“Nay, Sir Robby,” Kaliam said, and he put his hands on Robby’s shoulders. “You have done everything right since you entered The Realm, but these things that have happened to you-the visions, your ability to tame Splinter, the visitation by the old Glimpse in the mountains-these things may be of great importance. But we must find Zabediel to know for sure.”

Robby was on his way to his chamber for some much-needed sleep, when he remembered something else from his visions between worlds. In the forest, there had been a knight. And he became surrounded by many dark, glassy eyes. Robby had no idea if it was important, but he thought Kaliam might know. So Robby sped back the way he had come, at last arriving at the door to the balcony above Guard’s Keep. The door was slightly ajar, and Robby hesitated. He felt strangely awkward, and the thought entered his mind that he had no right to just go mucking about in the Castle of Alleble. Then he heard voices. Feeling even more uncomfortable, Robby drew close and put his ear to the narrow crack and listened.

“Is it as you suspected?” one voice asked, and Robby thought it might have been Sir Rogan.

“I cannot be sure,” a voice answered. That had to be Kaliam.

“Do you think he knows?”

“No,” Kaliam replied. “But we must be careful what we say in his presence.”

Robby felt as if a blade of ice had been drawn over his spine. Could they be talking about me? he wondered. Robby’s eyebrows knotted, and he listened more intently.

“What do you want me to do, then?” asked Sir Rogan.

“Watch him,” Kaliam replied. “Do not let him out of your sight, for he may rule the fate of us all.”

Hearing footsteps, Robby sprinted away from the door and raced all the way back to his chamber. Moments later, he lay in bed and stared into the darkness. His stomach churned, and he flopped back and forth trying to get comfortable.

Then, like the uninvited whisper of chill wind, a familiar voice came into Robby’s mind. “They do not trust you.”

T he Paragor Knights carried the screaming prisoners quickly through the catacombs and tunnels deep within the mountains of Paragory. Aidan followed them at a distance, all the while trying to remember the twists and turns so that he could find his way back. The enemy came to a sudden stop, and Aidan ducked behind a ridge of stone that projected from the tunnel wall and quietly drew his sword.

He peered out from behind the rock and saw that the tunnel ended in a kind of cliff overlooking a vast cavern. The prisoners shrieked and screamed. They struggled and fought-even trying to bite their captors. Aidan heard several distinct snapping sounds, and he knew the prisoners had broken their own bones trying to escape. But the knights outnumbered their captives two to one. They were much stronger and wore cruel spiked armor. They shrugged off the frantic blows and dragged a prisoner to the edge. Then, as if the prisoner were a sack of grain, the Paragor Knights tossed him over the edge and far into the cavern. He screamed a terrible, half-choked desperate scream. The scream was cut ominously short.

The Paragor Knights continued hurling the wretched prisoners over the edge, replaying the same scene. And yet Aidan had not heard even one of their bodies hit the ground.

Aidan wept in his hiding spot. He desperately wanted to come to their rescue, but there were too many guards. To rush out there now would be suicide and would condemn Antoinette to never-ending captivity in the holds of the enemy.

So Aidan watched in stunned silence until the Paragor Knights had finished. When they turned and sped back up the tunnel, Aidan had no thought for himself. They could have easily seen him crouching there, but they didn’t. They marched right by without even a glance.

At last, Aidan shook off the shock-induced paralysis. He stood, took a few timid steps toward the edge of the cliff-but could not see what lay far below.

The knights had spoken of feeding the Ancient One. But who or what is the firstborn? Aidan shuddered, thinking of some hideous creature snatching bodies out of the air. Aidan knew he should run as fast as he could in the opposite direction. But something drew him closer to that horrible cliff.

He slid slowly toward the edge and saw the serrated black crest of an enormous beast. He was not close enough to say yet what it was. But its back was armored with dark, glistening scales, and it seemed there was a ripple of muscle that churned beneath the scales like a wave of convulsions. Suddenly the creature loosed a terrible frightening cry-a wailing shriek that deepened and became a guttural roar. Aidan fell backward and clutched his ears. It seemed the whole cavern shook.

After what seemed like a painful eternity, the roar ceased. He heard a sound of wrenching metal and an echoing thud, and then a protracted grinding. Aidan rolled over onto his stomach and crawled to the edge to see what had happened. The cavern had two tall arched doors-like to the Gate of Despair, but slightly smaller. And these doors were opening. Aidan could see the icy wasteland beyond.

Aidan crawled a little closer, and at last he saw the beast in full. It was a dragon four times the size of the ones Aidan had ridden before, filling the cavern with its immense girth. It seemed to be sleeping, for its eyelids were clamped shut. But the creature continued to convulse. Then it opened its jaws and heaved as if it would vomit, but no flame or filth came forth. Instead, dark vapors spewed out-just tendrils at first but then a torrent of darkness. Aidan watched with sick fascination as the liquid shadow flooded out of the creature’s jaws and flowed like a dead river onto the Grimwalk. Aidan started to back away, but suddenly the dragon’s eye opened. It was a smoldering bloodred, and Aidan felt it could see him prone on the cliff. He backed away as fast as he could, got to his feet, and sprinted back up the tunnel.

After a half-dozen wrong turns later, Aidan emerged from a tunnel into the smoky cavern where the torture cages hung high among jagged stalactites. The Gate of Despair was thrown open, and wide columns of knights issued forth from it. Teams of stocky blackhorne were hitched to siege engines and catapults, and they too were in motion. The dragon riders went to the pens and groomed their steeds for flight. The stronghold of Paragory was emptying.

Aidan saw that beyond the gate the Grimwalk was shrouded in a thickening blanket of darkness-the Black Breath of the red-eyed dragon. Aidan watched as the forces of the enemy marched into the murk and disappeared from view.

At that moment several things happened in rapid succession. Kearn appeared from a passage to Aidan’s right. He strode across the cavern floor, barked orders to several ranks of soldiers, and then vanished into a tunnel on the other side. Then the dragon riders began to walk their steeds out of the pens. But they did not go to the main gate, which was choked with massive siege weapons and legions of soldiers. Instead, they led their dragons into any one of a dozen arched gates not far from the passage Kearn had taken.

This is my chance! Aidan thought, and he sprinted across the cavern floor to the dragon pens. But because of the noise of the troop deployment, Aidan did not hear the Paragor Knight who was shouting at him from atop one of the siege towers. “Hey, Blarrak, what do you think you are doing?” Drang yelled. “We do not leave for another hour. You get yourself up here and help me fix this engine right now!”