Марк Энтони - Curse of the Shadowmage

“What was that? ” Ferret asked. “Er, and that one wasn’t a rhetorical question.”

“I don’t know,” Morhion said in wonderment. “Somehow the ring altered my spell.”

Howls of bloodlust filled the air. At the bottom of the hill, a score of dark forms appeared out of the night. Swiftly, they began loping up the rocky slope.

“Well, we’d better hope the ring knew what it was doing,” Mari said somberly as she drew the short sword at her hip.

Ferret followed suit, pulling a long dagger from a leather sheath at his belt. “I suppose it’s too late to tell you that I’ve changed my mind and decided to stay behind in Soubar,” he said forlornly.

No one even bothered to reply.

With impossible swiftness, the shadowhounds streamed up the side of the hill. They looked like normal dogs, only they were blacker than midnight and bigger than the largest of mastiffs. Their sharp teeth glowed in the moonlight, their eyes burned with crimson light.

“Stay behind me, Kellen,” Morhion ordered, and the boy did as he was told.

For a moment the baying ended, and there was only eerie silence as the shadowhounds closed the last few yards to the ruined tower. Then, as one, they struck. Snarling ravenously, the onyx hounds leapt easily over the ragged wall, long tongues hanging out of gaping muzzles.

Purple radiance crackled brilliantly as snarls of hunger turned to yelps of pain. Like tiny bolts of violet lightning, tendrils of purple magic arced upward from the wall to engulf each of the shadowhounds in midair. The onyx beasts were thrown violently backward. They struck the ground howling and writhing until the purple sparks flickered and dimmed. The hounds regained their feet and padded warily toward the tower, lips curled back from sharp fangs. This time, however, they did not jump over the wall.

“The magic of the ring—it’s holding them back!” Mari said in amazement.

“Don’t get your hopes up yet,” Ferret countered. “We still have a little problem.” With his dagger, he pointed to the gap in the wall through which they had entered the ruined tower. Even now the hounds were prowling around the wall.

“Hold out your weapons,” Morhion commanded.

Startled, the other two did as they were told. Morhion muttered the words of another spell of protection, conjuring a second sphere of blue light. As before, the ring on his left hand flashed. Blue radiance became purple. The sizzling violet magic coiled around Mari’s sword and Ferret’s dagger until the two blades glowed with an enchanted light.

A shadow appeared in the gap, along with a pair of burning eyes. Mari and Ferret whirled just in time to face the shadowhound’s leap. Maw snapping violently, the monster fell upon Mari as she thrust her sword out before her. She fell to the ground, the beast on top of her. Suddenly it threw back its head, letting out a howl of agony. Searing purple magic radiated from Mari’s sword, engulfing the beast; the enchanted blade had pierced its body. The hound stumbled backward, howled again, then collapsed. In seconds its body had dissolved into a puddle of dark sludge. The purple magic faded. Pale-faced and bruised, Mari pulled herself to her feet.

Another shadowhound tried to jump through the breach. Ferret slashed with his blazing dagger, and the beast leapt backward. More of the dark hounds gathered outside the gap, but they had seen the effects of Mari’s sword on one of their ilk. They growled menacingly, but none dared try to force its way in. Then, as if in answer to some inaudible signal, the hounds all turned and loped away down the hill. The companions stared at each other in amazement.

Mari lowered her short sword. “They’re gone,” she said hoarsely. “They’ve given up.”

Kellen moved to the wall. He pulled himself up the rough stones and peered over the edge. “No, they haven’t given up,” he said quietly. “They’re just … changing.”

Drawn by his strange words, the others approached the wall.

“By all the gods of darkness!” Ferret swore.

The shadowhounds had gathered at the base of the hill, milling around in a growling throng. Two hounds brushed against each other, and, as if made of dark clay, their separate forms merged into one. More shadowhounds pressed themselves against their brethren, merging their bodies into shapeless blobs that oozed fluidly across the ground. Finally, the formless blobs coalesced with the remaining shadowhounds into one gigantic mass, which began to take on a new shape. Wings spread outward like midnight sails, a sinuous neck unfurled like a great serpent. Crimson eyes blinked to life in a huge, wedge-shaped head, and obsidian talons sprang from outstretched claws. The thing tilted its horned head back, its vast roar sundering the night.

“Milil save us,” Mari whispered in awe.

It was a dragon. A dragon of shadows.

The shadowdragon spread its vast wings and rose into the sky, blotting out the stars.

Kellen had never seen anything so magnificent—or so terrifying. The shadowdragon soared higher, the surging sound of its pumping wings like that of white-capped waves breaking on a rocky shore. In moments, the gigantic beast circled far above hill and ruined tower, tilting its triangular head back to let out another trumpeting roar.

“All right, now what?” Ferret rasped, his pointed nose twitching furiously. The little thief looked at the mage expectantly.

“I’m open to suggestions,” Morhion snapped.

“What about Isela’s ring?” Mari shouted over the dragon’s roar. “It helped protect us against the shadowhounds.”

“It is worth a try,” the mage agreed.

“Well, you might want to try soon,” Ferret gulped, pointing upward.

Silhouetted against the starry sky, the shadowdragon folded its wings against its body and dove, stretching out scythelike talons. Morhion crossed his wrists and shouted the guttural words of an incantation. Crackling bolts of blue lightning sprang from his out-turned palms and shot upward. As the bolts sped toward the shadowdragon, the jeweled ring on his left hand blazed brilliantly. The lightning changed from blue to deep violet. The diving dragon spread its sail-like wings, halting impossibly in midair. The beast cocked its neck, then thrust its head forward, jaws gaping open. Some dragons breathed fire, others emitted clouds of poisonous gas or flesh-searing acid. This was a dragon of shadow. Its breath was darkness.

A bolt of onyx streamed from the dragon’s mouth and collided with the crackling purple lightning halfway between mage and beast. Tendrils of darkness coiled around the blazing pillar of lightning and spiraled rapidly downward, like black serpents slithering down a glowing column.

“Morhion, let go of the spell!” Kellen cried out.

His face twisting with effort, the mage uncrossed his wrists at the last possible second. The onyx dragonbreath engulfed the magical lightning, and the spell shattered violently, filling the night with hurtling shards of slick darkness and sizzling purple radiance. The force of the explosion threw Morhion backward against the stone wall. He slumped to the ground and Mari ran to him.

“I’m all right,” he gasped hoarsely. “But if the ring has the power to help us now, I do not know the key …”

“Well, we’d better think of an alternate plan, and on the double,” Ferret suggested nervously.

The shadowdragon swooped low over the hilltop, then soared into the sky to ready itself for another dive. As it passed overhead, Ferret hurled his dagger in a precise arc. The knife struck the creature’s eye—and passed right through the shadowy substance of its body. The thief swore vehemently. “How can we fight something that’s made of shadows?” he shouted.