Death of the Dragon - Ed Greenwood [62]
"It is waiting for you in the palace," Nalavara said. "Wear it, and you are master of your own kingdom."
"A kingdom of goblins?" Vangerdahast stepped back behind the iron wall. "I think not."
Nalavara remained ominously silent. Vangerdahast closed his eyes and pictured himself standing beside the pit where he had left Rowen, then hissed his teleport spell. There was that instant of colorless, timeless falling, then he found himself lying on his side gasping for breath, staring up into a dark fissure between two teeth the size of wagon wheels. In his teleport after-daze, he could not imagine how he had managed to shrink himself to the size of a rat and end up in a terrier's mouth.
"Magic? With me here?" rumbled a deep voice. "You are not as smart as I thought."
Finally recalling the situation, and recognizing by the scaly lip above what had happened, Vangerdahast smashed the golden scepter against the dragon's teeth.
The staff broke in two, and Nalavara flinched, jerking her head around and flinging the wizard across the dark chamber. He crashed down among the iron scarecrows, then rolled to a painful halt and found himself staring at his hand, watching the glow fade from the stump of a broken little thigh bone. Though recovered enough from his teleport after-daze to recall that the scepter in his hand had been counterfeit, he couldn't think of why he should be holding a goblin's femur.
Nalavara's head swung in his direction, then disappeared from sight as she spat out the top half of the thigh bone. "Fraud!"
Vangerdahast rolled away before the stub could strike him, then found his escape blocked by a dozen iron scarecrows and began to think the situation more serious than he had imagined.
"Rowen?" he called. "Help?"
A bolt of lightning crackled up from the opposite side of Nalavara and silhouetted her immense snout against the black vastness. Her head swung away and disappeared into the darkness. There was a booming crack as her jaws came together, and Rowen howled in agony.
Vangerdahast knew what he had to do. "I wish Nalavara out of existence!" he cried, rubbing his ring of wishes. "I wish Nalavarauthatoryl the Red out of existence! I wish Lorelei Alavara out of existence!"
The cavern went suddenly quiet, then a familiar flickering glow began to illuminate the scarecrows fifty paces distant.
"Rowen?" Vangerdahast called.
"Aye, wizard, it's me." The ghazneth stood and tried to walk, then doubled over backward and collapsed. "But why in the Thousand Hells did you not make your wish before she bit me in two?"
18
"Very good progress, Your Majesty," Warden Huntsilver confirmed. "We can judge how far we've come by certain trees that mark the distance along the trail. There's one of them: Velaeror's Oak, named for the swordcaptain buried there, after his valiant death fighting brigands, by your great, great-"
Azoun. The voice in his mind was warm and familiar, yet sharp with an urgency he'd seldom heard before. It took a lot to break Filfaeril's outward calm. The king put an imperious hand on Maestoon Huntsilver's arm, and the quickwitted and sensitive warden of the King's Forest fell silent, instantly devoting his attention to guiding the silent Azoun smoothly along the root-studded trail, so that the king need not even look down… or anywhere.
Faery, I am here, he replied silently, fumbling behind his belt buckle for the little catch that would release what he might need. To the gods' dark places with all ghazneths! He was king in this land, and he'd use his ring if it seemed needful. What ill? Another three identical rings tumbled into his hand. The only spares he possessed-perhaps all that still existed. He held them ready to touch to the one on his finger, not caring, just now, if he burned all the magic in the royal treasury.
Gods, but he'd missed Faery's voice-even if it did now bring dark tidings.
Tana has been wounded, and-as many now know, though she keeps secrets well-is pregnant.
Azoun was more amused and pleased at his eldest daughter's spirit than angry, though he knew he should be furious