Troy Denning - The Verdant Passage

They had moved most of the way through the tunnel when Rikus cried, “Look out!” He shifted his grip on the Heartwood Spear, holding it diagonally across his body.

At the far end of the passage, a clawed hand as large as a half giant’s dangled from the open trap door. The gnarled fingers made a series of gestures and pointed at the companions. Without warning, a ball of green flame crackled down the passageway. Neeva and Tithian hid behind Rikus, and Agis huddled as close to them as he could. Sadira pressed her body against his back.

As the fireball washed over him, everything in Agis’s vision turned green and warped as if underwater. For a moment it seemed as though they were all trapped in a molten emerald. Then the air itself rushed from Agis’s chest, and he could not breathe. Where another person’s body did not protect him, he felt as if his skin were being seared over a bed of coals. At last, almost against his will, he drew a long, deep breath. His lungs exploded with scalding pain, making him gag. The fiery air contained a horrible, caustic fume that made his eyes water and burned his stomach as badly as it scorched his lungs.

An instant later, the fireball passed. The hand still dangled from the opening, gesturing in preparation for another spell. Rikus lifted the spear to throw, but stopped when Sadira cried Nok’s name and activated her cane.

Agis ducked and pulled Tithian down beside him. Everyone else had sense enough to crouch on their own.

“Mountainbolt!” Sadira cried.

A deafening boom shook the tunnel, and a sapphire flash streaked over Agis’s head. It struck the hand and exploded into a dazzling spray of blue-white sparks. Shreds of flesh and bone flew in all directions. An inhuman howl reverberated down the tunnel.

Rikus took off at a sprint, leaving the others standing behind him, astonished at his boldness. As the mul reached the end of the passageway, Kalak reached down with his other hand to grasp the trap door. The hand glowed with bright crimson light, and wet, soft scales covered it.

Before the king could pull the door closed, Rikus thrust the spear through the hand. Another howl, not quite as pained as the last, rolled down the passageway. The hand withdrew, dripping black blood. Kalak sent a cloud of yellow gas billowing through the door. The mul stumbled back to his companions, coughing and gasping for breath. Before the cloud reached the others it was carried back toward the king by the golden stream of energy coming from the shaft behind Sadira and the others.

“Quick thinking, Rikus,” Agis said, still wheezing from the effects of the green fireball. “I don’t know what we’d have done if Kalak had closed the door.”

The mul acknowledged the compliment with a grunt, then asked, “Anyone hurt? You all look pretty rough.”

Agis noticed that the fireball had burned away the robe on his arms and legs. The exposed skin was red, with white blisters forming in several places. Tithian was in much the same condition, as were the two women.

“We’re fine, Rikus,” Neeva said. “Get on with it.”

The mul led the way to the end of the corridor, then looked up at the narrow opening. “We can’t all go up at once.”

“I’ll lead the way,” Agis offered, stepping past Tithian and Neeva. “With both hands injured, Kalak won’t be casting many spells or fighting with weapons. That leaves the Way, my area of expertise.”

Rikus nodded. “You’re right,” he said, holding the spear out.

Agis shook his head. “We can’t afford the risk that I’ll lose it,” he said. “I can hold him long enough for the next person, even without the spear.”

“That makes sense, but-”

“I can do this, Rikus,” insisted Agis.

The mul regarded him for a moment, then nodded. “If you say so.” He leaned the spear against his shoulder and formed a stirrup with his hands.

Before Agis stepped into it, he felt a warm hand on his shoulder. “Be careful,” Sadira said.

Smiling, the nobleman handed Sadira the sword he had taken from Kalak’s treasure vault. Rikus gave Agis a boost, and he shot up into the secret chamber.

The room felt as hot as a furnace. Though its intensity did not compare to Kalak’s fireball, Agis’s lungs ached when he inhaled, and the heat scorched his skin-especially where he had already been burned. The chamber was fairly large, built entirely from glazed brick and filled with whorls of the translucent golden energy that rushed in from the shaft. Dozens of paintings decorated the walls and ceilings, portraying a huge dragon as it ravaged estates, caravans, and even whole cities.

So much dark blood covered the floor that Agis wondered how Kalak could still be alive. The black pools bubbled and steamed, sending wisps of greasy brown vapor to roll along the ceiling until they reached the center of the room, where a shaft rose toward the distant sky like a massive chimney.

Dozens of obsidian globes lay strewn over the floor. They varied in size from that of a small faro fruit to a huge melon. Scattered among the glassy balls were half-a-dozen empty husks, shaped like thick-bodied worms and made of soft, pinkish scales. The smallest of the husks was just over five feet in length, the largest more than ten.

Kalak himself lay on the far side of the room. His serpentine body, now more than twelve feet long, was covered with glowing scales that lit the whole chamber with their fiery radiance. The king paid no attention to Agis, for he was squirming and thrashing about, trying to free himself of his latest husk.

Realizing they had caught Kalak at a particularly vulnerable time, Agis reached through the opening in the floor and motioned for the others to follow. Sadira handed him his sword. As the others climbed into the room, the senator moved toward the king.

He could barely recognize Kalak in the grotesque larva writhing on the floor. The old man’s face had flattened into a serpentlike oval, and his ears had disappeared entirely. Reptilian scales now covered his wrinkled head. The golden diadem of Tyr’s kingship lay discarded on the floor beside him. While his neck had grown long and sinuous, his arms and legs had all but disappeared. At the moment, they seemed no more than withered and useless vestigial limbs. Boiling black fluid oozed from the spear wound in the dragon larva’s chest, from the stump at the end of its right arm, and from the hole in its left hand.

As Agis approached, the larva paid him no attention. It seemed to be in horrible pain both from its wounds and the process of shedding its skin. It slowly opened its mouth, revealing two rows of jagged teeth. The repulsive beast placed its mouth on a nearby obsidian globe as large as its own head. To the noble’s amazement, it swallowed the black ball. A spherical bulge slowly began to work its way down the beast’s long throat.

Rikus and the others crept up behind Agis. They studied the gruesome beast for a moment, then Sadira said, “Let’s kill him while we can.” She raised her cane end started forward.

The larva stopped writhing and whipped its head around to face them, the dark pits of its eyes flaring with anger. “Kill me , foolish girl?” it sneered, puffs of black steam leaking from its mouth. “Perhaps five hundred years ago, but not now.”

It fixed its hateful gaze on the sorceress, and Agis realized immediately the dragon-king was about to attack. It had let them come this close only because it intended to use the Way and finish them all at once.

Five battering rams, each carved in the image of a horned dragon’s head, appeared in front of the larva. It took Agis an instant to realize that they were mental constructs and not physical, for there was so much energy in the room that they had taken on the appearance of a material form.