Richard Knaak: Day of the Dragon

“But that will not deal with Deathwing,” Korialstrasz insisted. “And because of the cursed disk, he is stronger than all of you together—”

“A point of fact we know,” hissed Nozdormu. “And ssso did you when you came to usss! Well, you have usss now! Be sssatissfied with that!” He looked at his two companions. “Enough babble! Let usss be done with thisss!”

Ysera, her eyes closed again, turned to the dragon. “There is one thing you must do, Korialstrasz, and it does entail risk. This human cannot simply be magicked into the orcs’ midst. The Demon Soul makes that risky, and there is also always the chance that he will find himself under the ax when he appears. You must instead bear him there—and pray that for the few seconds you are so near, the orc does not bind you to the foul disk this time.” She walked up to the stricken dragon, touching the tip of his muzzle. “You are not one of us even if you are her consort, Korialstrasz, yet you fought the Demon Soul ’s hungry grasp and escaped—”

“I worked hard to build myself up for that, Ysera. I thought I had cast my protective spells better, but in the end I failed.”

“We can do this for you.” Suddenly, both Malygos and Nozdormu stood beside her. All three had their left hands touching Korialstrasz’s muzzle. “So much power the Demon Soul took from us, a little more will not matter. . . .”

Auras formed around the raised hands of the trio, the colors reminiscent of each of those contributing. The three auras combined, rapidly spreading from the Aspects to the dragon’s muzzle and beyond. In seconds, Korialstrasz’s entire immense form lay bathed in magic.

Ysera and the others finally backed away. The crimson behemoth blinked, then rose to his feet. “I feel—renewed!”

“You will need all of it,” she remarked. To her two companions, she said, “We must see to our errant brother.”

“About time, I would sssay!” snapped Nozdormu.

Without another word to either Rhonin or the red dragon, they turned away, facing the distant form of Deathwing. As one, the trio spread their arms wide—and those arms became wings that expanded and expanded. At the same time, their bodies widened, grew greater. Away went the garments, replaced by scale. Their faces lengthened, hardened, all vestiges of humanity shaping into draconic majesty.

The three gargantuan dragons rose high in the air, a sight so impressive that the wizard could only watch.

“I pray that they will be enough,” muttered Korialstrasz. “But I fear it will not be so.” He looked down at the tiny figure next to him. “What say you, Rhonin? Will you do as they bid?”

For Vereesa alone, he would have agreed. “All right.”

The fight had early gone out of Tyran, and now so had the life. Deathwing roared his triumph as he clutched the limp form of the other dragon high. Blood still seeped from a score of deep wounds—most of them in the red’s chest—and Tyran’s paws were covered with burns, the cost of touching the acidic venom that dripped from the fiery veins coursing along the black’s body. No one who touched Deathwing did not suffer in the end.

The dark one roared again, then let the lifeless form drop. In truth, he had done the ill red a favor; would not the other dragon have suffered worse if he had been forced to continue to live with his sickness? At least Deathwing had granted him a warrior’s demise, however easy the battle had truly been.

Yet a third time he roared, wanting all to hear of his supremacy—

—and found instead answering roars coming from the west.

“What fool now dares?” he hissed.

Not one fool, Deathwing immediately saw, but three . Not any three, either.

“Ysssera . . .” he greeted coldly. “And Nozdormu, and my dear friend Malygosss, too . . .”

“It is time to end your madness, brother,” the sleek green dragon calmly said.

“I am not your brother in anything, Ysera. Open your eyes to that fact, and also that nothing will prevent me from creating this new age of our kind!”

“You plan only an age in which you rule, nothing more.”

The black dipped his head. “Much the same thing, as I see it. Best you go back to sleep. And you, Nozdormu? Pulled your head out of the sand at last? Do you not recall who is most powerful here? Even the three of you will not be enough!”

“Your time isss over!” spat the glittering brown behemoth. Gemstone eyes flared. “Come! Take your place in my collection of thingsss passst. . . .”

Deathwing snorted. “And you, Malygos? Have you nothing to say to your old comrade?”

In response, the chill-looking, silver-blue beast opened wide his maw. A torrent of ice shot forth, washing over Deathwing with incredible accuracy. However, as soon as the ice touched the fearsome dragon, it transformed , turning into a thousand thousand tiny crablike vermin that sought to tear at the scales and flesh of their host.

Deathwing hissed, and from the crimson veins acid poured forth. Malygos’s creatures died by the hundreds, until only a few remained.

Expertly using two talons, the black dragon picked one of these off, then swallowed it whole. He smiled at his counterparts, revealing sharp, tearing teeth. “So that is how it is to be, then. . . .”

With an earth-shattering roar, he leapt at them.

“They will not defeat him!” Korialstrasz muttered as Rhonin and he neared the besieged orc column. “They cannot!”

“Then why bother?”

“Because they know that it is time to make a stand, regardless of the outcome! Rather would they pass from this world than watch it writhe and die in Deathwing’s terrible grip!”

“Is there no way we can help them?”

The dragon’s silence answered that.

Rhonin eyed the orcs ahead, thinking of his own mortality. Even if he managed to seize this artifact from Nekros, how long would he maintain hold of it? For that matter, what good would it do him? Could he wield it?

“Kras—Korialstrasz, the disk contains the power of the great dragons?”

“All save Deathwing, which is why he cannot be bound by its power!”

“But he can’t wield it himself because of some spell the others cast?”

“So it seems . . .” The dragon banked.

“Do you know what the disk can do?”

“Many things, but none of them able to directly or indirectly affect the dark one.”

Rhonin frowned. “How is that possible?”

“How long have you trained in magic, my friend?”

The wizard grimaced. Of all the arts, magic truly had to be one of the most contradictory, guided by laws all its own, laws quite changeable at the worst of times. “Point taken.”

“The great ones have made up their minds, Rhonin! By being granted the chance to take the Demon Soul , you will not only free my queen—who will, I do not doubt, rise to their aid—but also have the wherewithal for finally crushing the remnants of the Horde! The Demon Soul can do that, if you learn to wield it properly, you know!”

He had not even considered that, but of course a relic like this would serve well against the orcs. “But it would take too long to learn how to use it!”

“The orcs did not have willing teachers! I am not one of the Five, Rhonin, but I can show you enough, I think!”

“Providing we both survive . . .” the mage whispered to himself.

“Yes, there is that.” Apparently dragons had exceptional hearing. “Aah, there is the orc in question! Be ready!”

Rhonin prepared himself. Korialstrasz dared not get too near Nekros for fear of falling victim to the Demon Soul , which meant that, despite the talisman, the wizard had to use magic to reach the orc commander. He had cast many spells in the heat of battle before, but nothing had quite prepared Rhonin for this effort. The dragon might have tried, but around the vicinity of the relic, his magic would have fared worse than the wizard’s.