Lorelle of the Dark, page 22
She drew a sharp breath and shot a look at the sleeping monster.
The dragon opened his burning yellow eyes.
Chapter Thirty-one
Lorelle
Zaith clenched her arm so hard it hurt and she immediately controlled the glow of her hair. The light winked out.
But it was too late.
“Visitors,” the dragon said in a deep voice that shook the entire cavern. “I haven’t had visitors in a long time. A long time. And I do love them so.”
The dragon’s tail vanished from its side of the treasure trove and whipped around toward them. The tip snaked into the tunnel and caressed Lorelle on the cheek, so soft, like the touch of a friend.
“Oh… yes…” the dragon breathed and its vast bulk shivered. Coins clinked and slid down the pile.
“Run!” Zaith shouted. They sprinted away from the tail’s quivering tip and rushed up the corridor, leaping from shadow to shadow. The dragon vanished from view.
“Oh please,” the dragon thundered, his voice echoing down the tunnel. “Don’t be rude.”
Booms shook the corridor and rock dust sifted downward. They flew like the wind and reached the entrance of the small corridor in moments—
—to find the dragon’s snout waiting for them, his smoking nostrils filling the entire opening.
They skidded to a stop. Zaith bared his teeth, glancing desperately back the way they’d come, back toward the treasure pile.
“The cloak,” she said. “Use the cloak!”
He hesitated.
“Ah!” the voice boomed from the entrance of the tunnel. “There are two of you. I only saw the one. Do you know what this means?”
“Use the cloak—”
The entire left wall of the corridor turned to sand and fell to the ground, opening into the main hallway where the dragon crouched. His huge claw lashed out, faster than either of them could react, and one of those wickedly curved nails slammed down right between them, knocking them to the ground on either side of it.
“It means a choice,” the dragon rumbled. “A delicious choice. I see you have a treasure of your own, a noktum cloak. Old Tovos doesn’t give those to just anyone. And now the choice comes together, the glorious edge of the knife where fate bows to mortals.” It lowered its head, and Lorelle looked for a way around the claw. Zaith stood just beyond, but she hesitated to go to him. The dragon’s claw had moved so fast it had been a blur. She couldn’t just leap over it and expect to reach Zaith, and she didn’t want to run back toward the treasure trove.
“The choice… the choice… the choice… I shall state it, then I will leave it in your hands. Here it is: One of you shall die a horrible death. The other shall return to the life they knew. Which will it be? Choose.”
Zaith leapt over the claw toward Lorelle, taking the decision out of her hands. His cloak unfurled to wrap around her—
The cloak stopped as though some force had pinned it to the air. It held Zaith by the neck as he dangled. The cloak came to life and wound about Zaith, binding him, holding him a foot above the dragon’s claw.
“Lorelle!” Zaith cried. The cloak engulfed his face, balled up, shrank, wound smaller and smaller into a little black knot—
And it was gone. Zaith was gone.
Lorelle stood stunned.
“Well chosen. Well chosen,” the dragon said. It removed its claw from the dusty opening and lowered its snout to the ground, its burning yellow eyes focused on her. “As promised. One happy life…”
It grinned.
“And one horrible death.”
Chapter Thirty-two
Lorelle
Lorelle’s heart beat so fast she thought it would burst out of her chest. She felt helpless, that same cold, trickling feeling she’d felt the moment Vamreth had lowered the crossbow at Rhenn’s heart when they were children.
But this time there was no noktum behind her. No escape. The dragon seemed to fill the entire cavern and the thought of running seemed useless. Zaith had moved as fast as Lorelle had ever seen anyone move—Human or Luminent or Nox—and still the dragon had been faster.
And the dragon clearly had magic.
“You’re a Luminent,” the dragon said, cocking its head, “dressed up to look like a Nox. How… interesting. One doesn’t see that every day.”
Lorelle looked left and right. She had to try something!
The dragon’s yellow eyes narrowed. “Ah…” it said, as though it had just figured something out. “So, it’s happening at long last.”
She could barely breathe through her panic, but she seized on the curiosity in the monster’s voice. “Happening? W-what’s happening?” she stammered.
“Ah, she has found her tongue. I remember, long ago, another young Luminent. She never did find her tongue. I waited oh so long for her to say something, but she just stared at me.” The dragon sighed. “So, I ate her.”
Lorelle swallowed. “W-when you said something was happening, you sounded… like it surprised you.”
“Oh, it does,” the dragon said. “A Luminent in my domain. The last time Luminents came here, they came to kill me. A whole army of them. I splattered them across the walls, one after the other until that last one I mentioned. But she wouldn’t speak to me. Just couldn’t speak at that point. I pray you’ll do better.”
“That was… during the Human-Giant War?” she asked.
“Oh, well done,” it said. “Yes, it was. I was ordered to protect this Thuros. Ordered… Me! Do you know how many years I’ve been here?”
“Thousands,” she said.
“One thousand nine hundred and eighty-four,” it said. “Do you know how long it’s been since anyone has visited me?”
She opened her mouth, but nothing came out.
“The army of Luminents, that bloody, tasty day so long ago. Do you know how long ago? Do you know how long I have been here, little Luminent? How hungry I am?”
“They came… to fight you?” she finally managed to say.
The dragon smiled. “Oh, I like you. You think that if you can keep me talking I will not devour you.”
Her heart hurt, like she’d swallowed a stone and it was stuck in her chest. She prepared to leap away, to do something—anything—to escape.
“But I have no intention of eating you. Hungry as I am, your presence here means something far more than the appearance of a tasty tidbit. One does not gobble up omens. Do you know what you represent? Do you have any clue?”
Lorelle tried to answer, but the dragon’s suddenly feral gaze seemed to paralyze her.
The dragon poked his nose a little closer, until it was in the wrecked corridor. The smoke from its nostrils curled around her like hot steam.
“Change,” he whispered.
Its lips pulled back, exposing rows and rows of tall, sharp, white teeth behind its horned beak of a snout.
“I have slept,” the dragon continued. “I have dreamed of this moment. Your touch. My chain going slack at long last. You, little Luminent, are a glittering jewel. More valuable than anything in my hoard, and I will not waste you. So, fear not. You get to live.”
Breathing hard from her pounding heart, she tried to think of what to say. “Thank you.”
“Tell me, what is a Luminent doing in the Great Noktum? Why does she have a Nox chaperone? How and why did she bind herself to the Dark? A Luminent? Binding herself to the Great Noktum? Incongruities. Impossibilities. The wheel has turned. Do the winds of change blow in the lands of daylight? Are the Noksonoi on the move at last?”
Noksonoi… She knew that word. Slayter had mentioned it. That was what the Giants had called themselves.
“One, at least,” Lorelle said. “Nhevalos.”
“Nhevalos!” the dragon roared, and the heat of his breath washed over her.
“You know him,” she said.
The dragon’s eyes burned brighter. “Oh, we all know that name. Did he send you here?”
“No. He stole my sister.”
“Which is the reason you are here?”
“Yes.”
“Then he did send you.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because that is Nhevalos’s way. He tinkers here and something happens there. He whispers in Demaijos and it becomes a shout in Usara. He steals a sister and a lost little Luminent wakes a dragon. The Noksonoi have returned, and Nhevalos’s clever whip goads them, as ever.” The dragon narrowed his eyes. “So, the Betrayer hints that your sister is here and you fling yourself after her. Well, I am sorry to tell you, my delectable morsel, but she is not here.”
“I didn’t come here to find her.”
“Oh?”
“I came to get a Plunnos. To follow Nhevalos.”
“Ah, he took her through a Thuros,” the dragon said, and his eyes glanced briefly at the swirling Thuros perched above his hoard.
“Yes.”
“The question then is, as it ever is with Nhevalos: has he ensured you won’t ever follow him, or he has he ensured that you will? Which do you suppose it is?”
“There are no—I haven’t been able to find a Plunnos. Zaith said you have one.”
“Oh, I do. And Zaith led you here, you say? The Nox with the noktum cloak?”
“Yes.”
“So, it was not Nhevalos who sent you, but Tovos?”
“I—Who?”
“Mmmm,” the dragon rumbled. “You don’t know who Tovos is.”
“No.”
“I would bet Zaith does. Have you known him long?”
It seemed she’d known Zaith for a lifetime.
“No.”
“But he is your friend, yes? Your good friend. Your trusted friend who would never do anything to harm you…”
Lorelle narrowed her eyes.
The dragon sighed contentedly. “Very well. I think I understand.” He glanced sideways at his treasure pile. “It’s time to play the game. It’s time to pay Nhevalos back.”
“Pay him back?”
“Who do you think trapped me here after I laid waste to his Luminent army?” He indicated a giant, glowing golden chain lying at the base of his hoard. There was an open manacle attached to it, but the glowing chain seemed to go nowhere. A six-foot length of it hovered in the air. “And now Tovos has sent me a lifeline. My thanks, Little Luminent.”
“Y-you’re welcome.”
“You have given me my freedom, so I will give it back to you in return.” The dragon laughed and the sound shook the walls. Dirt sifted down. A stalactite broke free from the ceiling and crashed into the gold, causing a small landslide of coins. “You came to the heart of the Great Noktum, to my lair, to find a Plunnos.” The dragon’s flaming eyes blazed at her as it raised its head. “And you shall have it.”
The horde of coins shivered and several thin avalanches of gold slid down as it rumbled. The box at the top of the pile flew into the air. It flipped open and a Plunnos floated across the distance to land atop the dragon’s claw, where it spun and danced on the creature’s knuckle.
“You’ve invigorated me with your incomplete bond to the noktum and your Nox disguise. The wheel turns and I will do my part. Take it.” He twitched a knuckle and flipped the coin toward Lorelle. She caught it with both hands.
Her fingers closed around it and she felt its power. The fake Plunnos had been nothing but a coin with a convincing weight and arcane symbols engraved upon it. This was warm with an inner heat, inordinately light, and yet she sensed it would survive being smashed between two boulders without bearing a scratch.
A long, insidious smile spread across the dragon’s face. “Open the Thuros, little Luminent. Chase your sister.”
“Thank you. Do you…” she began to ask, but hesitated.
The dragon raised a scaly ridge above one eye. “Yes?”
“You say Nhevalos took Rhenn for a reason. Why? Why would he take her?”
The dragon let out a whuff that shook its long neck. Was that a dragon laugh?
“Which brings us to our crossroads, little Luminent. We cannot part company without a crossroads. I will give you a choice. Your first path is this: I will tell you everything you wish to know. Everything your curious heart desires. I will answer every question you can think of about Nhevalos, about his methods, about why he would want your sister. About Tovos and your good friend, the Nox. Then, when we are done, I will devour you. But—” the dragon raised a claw as though to emphasize his point “—once you are dead, I will put the Dragon’s Chain back around my ankle and my confinement will begin anew until another traveler comes to free me. I will stay here in my cave and sleep for another thousand years.” It lowered its chin.
“Here is your second path: You can take the Plunnos you came for. Abscond with your prize and with my blessing. The Plunnos will be yours and you will be free to seek your sister.”
“You’ll just let me go?”
“With the Plunnos. With the Thuroi at your command and your sister in reach.”
Lorelle’s heart thumped. Was this some cruel kind of torture to get her hopes up and then dash them?
“I will take the Plunnos,” she said.
“Of course, you will,” the dragon said, and that frightening smile spread across his face. “Be free then, little Luminent. Dance to Nhevalos’s tune, or to Tovos’s—whomever is playing the harp. But remember, I gave you the choice. Remember you stood on the knife’s edge, and you bent fate to your will.” The dragon rose and turned its head toward the exit of its cave. It drew a deep breath. “Yeeesss…” it sighed; the word stretched, like the dragon was luxuriating in it. “It is time for me to see what has become of Noksonon.”
The dragon started up the main corridor, toward the exit, each heavy footfall shaking the walls.
Lorelle ran after the creature. She didn’t know why, but she chased it, clutching the Plunnos in both hands, feeling a deep foreboding that somehow, she had made the wrong choice.
It launched into the sky when it passed the mouth of the cave. She ran into the open air and squinted up at the painfully bright streaks of white as the dragon pumped its mighty wings, buffeting the crevice with a hurricane wind.
She squinted as dust and rock swirled around her. The dragon let out a thunderous scream, so loud she gasped and pressed her hands to her ears.
Clenching her teeth, she craned her neck and saw the dragon winging higher and higher. It blew yellow fire all around, filling the indigo sky with natural light. Even at this distance, Lorelle felt the heat of it.
In moments, the dragon was nothing more than a speck of black against the purple. The yellow fire around it died, and then she could no longer see it.
The dragon’s ominous words rang in her mind. Remember, I gave you the choice. You stood on the knife’s edge…
And you bent fate to your will.
Chapter Thirty-three
Lorelle
Lorelle shivered as she watched the dragon go, barely able to comprehend she was still alive. She had the Plunnos. She could search for Rhenn now, but…
Guilt and hope warred within her. She had what she needed, what she’d come for, but at what cost? Zaith was dead. He’d screamed her name as his own cloak devoured him at the dragon’s command. The dragon had promised one of them would live and one would die.
But the dragon had also spoken in riddles. Zaith had screamed, but was he really dead? The cloak had balled itself up just like the first time she’d seen him teleport on the dock in Usara.
Was that the horrible death the dragon had promised? Or had the dragon simply taken hold of the cloak’s magic and teleported Zaith elsewhere? Could he still be alive?
If he was, she had to look for him, didn’t she? To find out if he was all right?
She looked back into the yellow glow of the cave. The Thuros was there. Rhenn was there.
She sprinted back inside, her feet flying over the rough rock. She skidded to a stop before the mountain of treasure surrounded by its giant braziers of natural light. To her left, the long, rough-hewn staircase leading up the cavern wall stretched into the flickering shadows.
She ran up the stairs, taking them three at a time until she stood breathless before the Thuros. Blue, brown, green, red, and black swirled in the archway…
“Take me to Rhenn,” she whispered, clenching the Plunnos in her fist. She squeezed her eyes shut and envisioned her friend in that last second before she had vanished into the swirling colors.
Take me to Rhenn…
She opened her eyes and lobbed the coin at the swirling colors just as she’d seen Nhevaz do. It clinked, rebounded unerringly back into Lorelle’s hand.
No portal opened. The colors simply continued swirling. Her heart sank.
She clenched her teeth, walked forward, and slammed her fist against the solid colors—
Her hand passed through like it was water, just as Nhevaz’s body had passed through.
She cried out in joy and charged into the colors.
The swirling lights slithered over her and she felt like she was being dipped in a vat of oil. It saturated her hair, slid around her neck, arms, breasts, belly, and legs like she was suddenly naked.
Then she was through. She fell to her knees, gasping. She looked down at herself, expecting to find herself stripped and dripping in oil—
But she was dry. Her black Nox clothes were exactly as they had been.
She shivered, then looked up to see where she was. The swirling colors of the Thuros illuminated nothing, but the room was shrouded in darkness. A natural darkness, not the deep dark of the noktum. But normal darkness now seemed like twilight to her noktum-enhanced eyes.
She stood atop a dais with shallow steps leading down to a circular room with stone walls. In the center was a giant pillar with a door on it, and she recognized it all. This was the basement room of the Usaran palace, right back where she’d started.
“No…” She looked around helplessly. For a moment, she had hoped this was simply a similar basement, perhaps in another kingdom, built in exactly the same fashion.
But she knew this room too well. The two gates barred the tunnel to the noktum where she and Rhenn had fled a decade ago, where Rhenn, Khyven, Vohn, and she had emerged mere months ago to take back the kingdom.
