Richard Knaak - Day of the Dragon

“Get ready . . .”

Korialstrasz dropped lower.

“Now!”

The words came out of Rhonin in a gasp—and suddenly he floated in the air, directly over one of the wagons.

An orc driver looked up, gaped when he saw the wizard.

Rhonin dropped on top of him.

The collision softened his fall, but did nothing good for the orc. Rhonin scrambled to push the unconscious driver to the side, then searched the area for Nekros.

The one-legged commander remained on horseback, eyes fixed on the turning form of Korialstrasz. He raised the gleaming Demon Soul high—

“Nekros!” Rhonin shouted.

The orc looked his way, which had been just as the wizard wanted it. Now the dragon remained out of Nekros’s reach.

“Human! Wizard! You’re dead!” His heavy brow furrowed and a dark look crossed his hideous features. “Well . . . you will be soon!”

He pointed the artifact toward Rhonin.

The wizard quickly cast a shield, hoping that whatever Nekros threw at him would not be as terrible as the golem’s flames. The great dragons had not seen fit to grant him some of the extra strength they had given to Korialstrasz, but then, the red behemoth had been near to total collapse, and they had needed the rest of their power for Deathwing. Rhonin’s own hopes all lay in his own flagging capabilities.

A gigantic hand—a hand of flame—reached for him, trying to encircle the mage. However, Rhonin’s spell held true, and the hand, rebounding off the faintly visible shield, instead engulfed an orc warrior about to behead his dwarven adversary. The orc let out one short scream before collapsing into a burning heap.

“Your tricks’ll not hold you long from death!” growled Nekros.

The ground beneath the wagon began to shake, then crumble. Rhonin threw himself from the sinkhole that formed just as the wagon and the animals pulling it were dragged under. The shield spell dissipated, leaving the desperate mage undefended as he clung to what remained of the path.

Nekros urged his mount nearer. “Whatever happens this day, human, I’ll at least be rid of you!”

Rhonin uttered a short, simple spell. A single clump of dirt flew up into the orc’s face, lodging there despite his attempts to peel it away. Swearing, Nekros struggled to see.

The wizard pulled himself up, then leapt at the orc.

He came up a bit short, catching the arm that held the Demon Soul but unable to pull himself higher. Although still blinded, Nekros seized Rhonin by the collar, trying to get one heavy hand on the mage’s throat.

“I’ll kill you, human scum!”

Fingers closed around Rhonin’s neck. Caught between attempting to pry the talisman free and saving his own life, Rhonin managed to accomplish neither. Nekros began to crush the life out of him, the incredible strength of the orc too much for the mage. Rhonin started a spell—

A winged shape suddenly darted past Nekros. Something landed on the back of the orc, throwing both him and the wizard off the horse and onto the rough ground.

They landed hard. The murderous grip on Rhonin’s throat vanished as the two bounced in opposite directions.

Someone seized the dazed mage by the shoulders. “Up, Rhonin, before he recovers!”

“V-Vereesa?” He stared into her striking face, both astonished and pleased to see her.

“We saw the dragon drop you from the sky, then watched as you magicked yourself to safety! Falstad and I came as soon as we could, thinking you might need help!”

“Falstad?” Rhonin looked up, saw the gryphon-rider and his mount circling back. Falstad had no weapon, yet he howled as if daring every orc in the column to come face him.

“Hurry!” the ranger cried. “We must get out of here!”

“No!” Reluctantly he pulled back. “Not until—look out!”

He pushed her aside just before a massive war-ax would have cut her in two. A beefy orc with ritual scars cut down each cheek raised the ax again, once more focusing on Vereesa, who had fallen to the side.

Rhonin gestured . . . and the ax handle suddenly stretched, weaving about as if some writhing serpent. The orc struggled to control it, only to find his weapon now twisting around him. Suddenly fearful, the warrior released his grip and, after managing to pull free of the living ax, ran off.

The wizard reached out a hand to his companion—

—and fell to the ground as a fist caught him in the back.

“Where is it?” roared Nekros Skullcrusher. “Where’s the Demon Soul ?”

Momentarily stunned, Rhonin did not quite understand the orc. Surely Nekros had the talisman. . . .

A piercing weight pressed down on him from the back. He heard Nekros say, “Stay where you’re at, elf! All I need to do is lean a little harder and I’ll crush your friend like a piece of fruit!” Rhonin felt cold metal against his cheek. “No tricks, mage! Give me the disk back and I may let you live!”

Nekros gave him just enough movement so that Rhonin could see the orc out of the corner of his eye. The commander had his wooden leg squarely on the wizard’s spine, and Rhonin had no doubt that just a bit more pressure would snap the spine completely. “I d-don’t have it!” The near-full weight of Nekros’s massive body made it nearly impossible to breathe, much less speak. “I don’t even know w-where it is!”

“I’ve no patience for your lies, human!” Nekros pushed a little harder. A hint of desperation colored his otherwise arrogant tone. “I need it now!”

“Nekrosss . . .” interrupted a thundering, hate-filled voice. “You had them ssslay my children! My children !”

Rhonin felt the orc suddenly shift, as if turning. Nekros let out a gasp, then, “No—!”

A shadow overwhelmed both Rhonin and his adversary. A hot, almost searing wind washed over the mage. He heard Nekros Skullcrusher scream—

—and suddenly the orc’s weight vanished from his back.

Rhonin immediately rolled onto his back, certain that whatever had taken his enemy would now take him. Vereesa came to his aid, dragging him to her just as the mage registered what had created the vast shadow and why the voice accompanying it had been familiar.

Scales hanging loose in some areas, her wings bent awkwardly, the Dragonqueen Alexstrasza still presented a most astounding sight. She towered over all else, her head high in the sky as she roared in defiance. Of Nekros, Rhonin saw no sign; the great dragon had either swallowed the orc whole or tossed his body far away.

Alexstrasza roared again, then dipped her head down toward the wizard and elf. Vereesa looked ready to defend them both, but Rhonin signaled her to lower her blade.

“Human, elf, you have my gratitude for finally enabling me to avenge my children! Now, though, there are others who need my aid, however minuscule it might prove!”

She cast her eyes skyward, where four titans fought. Rhonin followed her gaze, watched for a moment as Ysera, Nozdormu, and Malygos battled Deathwing seemingly without result. Again and again the trio dove in, and each time the black monster repelled them easily.

“Three against one and they still can’t do anything?”

Alexstrasza, already testing her wings for departure, paused to reply, “Because of the Demon Soul , we are more than halved! Only Deathwing remains whole! Would that it could be wielded against him or that we could regain the power lost to it, but neither of those options exists! We can only fight and hope for the best!” A roar from above shook the earth. “I must go now! Forgive me for leaving you thus! Thank you again!”

With that, the Dragonqueen rose into the air, her tail casually sweeping nearby orcs away yet ever avoiding the valiant dwarven attackers.