Son of Thunder - Murray J. D. Leeder [119]
A dozen or more hell hounds pursued him, close enough to snap at his tail. They must have come from the underlevels of the Dark Sun, Rask knew, where Mythkar Leng bred them for dark purposes. Leng still stalked Rask's darkest dreams, his gray eyes peering from the front of the temple, seeing through his feigned faith in Cyric.
The Dark Sun. Did he have the power to destroy it?
Rask could make out its single spire from where he stood, and he turned a corner and galloped toward it, his skin crawling with anger. The street trembled as he ran, stampeding through the Merchant District and crushing caravans as if they were egg shells. As the dark cathedral grew closer, the hell hounds on his trail increased in number.
* * * * *
The Central Square was alive with hell hounds, growling, leaping, and barking. They avoided the deadly chains crisscrossing the square, even when the behemoths lifted their feet and pulled the chains higher. The dogs surrounded Kellin as she fended them off with her father's sword and her spells. The fiery blasts from their mouths were unrelenting, and she was wounded and exhausted. Backed against the post, with hounds snarling at her on all sides and bounding over her head to attack from above, Kellin knew she had little hope of defeating them.
The ground shook as a behemoth stormed into the square. Its vast bulk traveled with remarkable speed and care, and it reared back and slammed its front feet down on the hell hounds that harried Kellin, crushing them beneath its great weight. Those massive feet landed mere inches from Kellin, and the vibrations rattled her brain. The remaining hell hounds jumped at the impact, many onto the deadly chains.
Kellin watched as the behemoth transformed, its vast size melting. Soon, standing before her was the green-robed druid Thanar.
"I've never been more grateful to see you," she said.
"Nor I you," he answered. He smiled in wonder, looking around at the chained behemoths crowding the square.
Kellin asked, "How are the others?"
"Hengin fell, and so did Draf." He lowered his head. "The soldiers tore Draf down as we were toppling the city barracks."
"And Vell? What of Vell?"
"I do not know," said Thanar. "Can we free the captives?" he asked, looking up at the trapped behemoths.
Kellin nodded at the post. "Its enchantment is strong, but perhaps we can overcome it together."
Both of them placed their hands over the stone post and began to concentrate, pouring all their energy into dissolving Geildarr's magic.
* * * * *
Rask's feet burned as he raced through the streets of Llorkh, the infernal dogs at his heels. With his gargantuan strides, he quickly reached his destination. The Dark Sun stood before him-the huge, purple-walled church raised after the Time of Troubles to the glory of Cyric.
In Rask's mind he was a small child again, flogged by Leng as Cyricists looked on and smiled. He felt each lash again, ripping his flesh.
The huge doors to the Dark Sun were closed. Rask pounded them with his huge forelegs until they flew off their hinges. As a behemoth, he shouldered his way inside, dozens of hell hounds following him.
The church trembled at his entry. Pillars shook, and shocked Cyricists darted and dived for cover as the behemoth rushed in. The temple could barely contain Rask, even with its enormous size. His head bumped the ebon ceiling, and he thrashed his tail at the jawless skulls staring at him from every wall. The hell hounds raced into the temple and dashed around Rask, howling and yipping, breathing flames, snapping at him, ripping away flesh in their fiery jaws. The priests of Cyric unleashed their cruel magic upon him.
Rask looked for Leng among the Cyricists, but was disappointed not to find him. He could think of many reasons for the priest's absence, but somehow Rask suspected