Dragonvein (32 page)

Ethan bowed awkwardly. “No. Not at all. But I thought you weren’t due for a couple of days.”

Ganix sat back down and offered Ethan an empty chair nearby. “I don’t care for fanfare. This gives me a chance to observe without distractions. I knew they would have a celebration planned, so I sent word that I was arriving a little later than I actually was.”

Ethan took the chair and placed it in front of the king. “I have so many questions for you.”

“And I have many answers,” Ganix told him. “But I doubt most are the answers
you
need.” He looked at Lylinora and sighed. “Lovely, isn’t she? Personally, I prefer my women to have a bit more girth to them. But she is still quite lovely.”

“She’s beautiful.”

“All these long centuries trapped in a crystal prison, poor thing. Completely unaware that the world she once knew is gone.”

“King Halvar said you might know how to get her out.”

“Possibly. But first you must decide if it is time to release her.” He tilted his head and regarded Ethan for a moment. “Tell me about the dragons. Can you hear them? Are they calling to you?”

“Yes,” he replied. “Constantly. But I don’t know what to do about it?”

“You must go to them, of course.”

“But how?”

Ganix placed a finger on the side of his nose and winked. “Let me worry about that. First, tell me about your dreams. I presume the dragons are in these as well.”

Ethan nodded and told him all he could remember. “Down here, the dreams are less intense and the voices quieter,” he concluded.

“The scenery is rather nice as well.” Ganix smiled. “Who is that young girl who tried to cover Lylinora with a blanket?”

“That’s just Kat. She doesn’t mean any harm.”

“I’m afraid I frightened the poor child when she came down here earlier. I’ll have to remember to apologize.”

“Can I ask you a question?”

The king nodded.

“Why do the dwarves hate humans?”

“Well now, that
is
a question,” Ganix responded. “One for which there is no easy answer. Before I try, I would correct you by saying that dwarves do not
hate
humans. Well, some do, I suppose. But mistrust would be a better word for it. There is a long and not always pleasant history between our two peoples. No one knows it in its entirety, and only a handful know as much as I.”

His expression became very serious for a moment. “I
am
willing to tell you some of what I know, but I would ask that what I say stays with you alone.”

Ethan suddenly felt uneasy. “Is it
that
bad?”

“Not bad. Just unexpected and confusing. This sort of knowledge could strip some dwarves of their pride and self-worth.”

“Then you have my word,” said Ethan. “I won’t tell anyone. Not even Markus.”

Ganix smiled. “I will begin by asking you whether you have seen the artwork that decorates much of Elyfoss.”

Ethan nodded.

“Then you might have noticed that there is a common theme in the older sections.”

“I honestly can’t tell the new from the old,” Ethan admitted. “But I have noticed paintings and carvings of stars and planets. There seems to be a lot of them around.”

“That is because they were created many thousands of years ago by dwarves who knew our true origins. You see, the dwarves are not really from Lumnia. Once, long ago my people traveled the stars.”

Ethan’s eyes popped wide. “Birger said he’d heard stories like that. But he wasn’t sure if they were true.”

“His father was a wise dwarf – one of my teachers actually – and well aware of our history. As a youth, Birger was studying to be a scholar. Unfortunately, he and his father had a falling out, which resulted in Birger choosing a different path. But that’s a tale for another time.”

He drew a deep breath. “As I said, we traveled the stars. We built mighty vessels and set out across the heavens in search of a new home. Where we came from originally is not known, but we eventually found Lumnia. Drawn by its energy, which we quickly discovered was able to power our technology, we settled down and claimed it for our own.

“However, the elves were already here and did not exactly welcome us. We looked upon them as superstitious primitives, and they regarded us as unwelcome interlopers. It wasn’t long before tensions between our two peoples became unbearable and eventually war broke out. We had our superior weapons, but were hopelessly outnumbered. We knew that sooner or later we would be forced off the planet, so we made plans to evacuate. But something happened. How it was done, I don’t know, but the elves found a way to destroy our ships. Fearing that more of us would follow, they had decided that none of us would ever leave to tell others about Lumnia. It was during this time that the portals were discovered.

“Using these, we scanned the heavens for a way off the planet…and found Earth. Your people were little more than barbarians at the time – even less advanced than the elves in fact. But rather than escape to Earth, we decided to bring its inhabitants over by the thousands to help us in our fight against the elves. Soon the tide was turned and the elves were driven back.”

“Why didn’t you just live on Earth?” asked Ethan. “Why keep fighting?”

“Because, dear boy, we were greedy. The energy you know as magic didn’t exist on Earth, and by then we had become dependent on it. We couldn’t use it ourselves – not in the way a mage does – but we could channel it through our bodies to create wondrous objects of fearsome power. It ran our machines, constructed our buildings, and enabled us to live in lavish comfort. We tried bringing it to Earth, but the power dissipated too quickly. In the end, the elves were sent running and the humans became little more than our slaves.”

Ethan leaned back, appalled. “Your people enslaved us?”

“Not in the sense you might think. We didn’t force you to work. But we did nothing to help you either. And if you complained, we made you suffer for it. Not our proudest moment, to be sure. But don’t worry. The humans repaid us well. They were already having problems with the elves. Another war seemed inevitable. The elves, fearing the flood of humans would continue to come through, corrupted the portals, making travel between worlds far too unpredictable and dangerous to attempt.

“By then, humans had already discovered that some amongst them could use magic. Not just channel it, but alter the world around them using nothing more than their bodies. The most talented among them grew strong and defiant. Where we thought they would make war on the elves, they attacked us instead.”

Ethan could not resist a tiny smile.

It did not go unnoticed. “Yes. We deserved it. The war went on for years. And thanks to the power of the mages, they drove us underground and cut us off from the surface. Eventually, we made an agreement and were permitted outside our strongholds to farm and trade, but the days of dwarf supremacy were well and truly over.

“Since that time our people have steadily declined. The knowledge to build the great machines which were the
true
power of my people slowly faded to dust. Our cities are all that now remains of my ancestor’s industry and might.”

Ethan rubbed his temples, trying to come to terms with the fact that the dwarves were from some distant, unknown planet in outer space.

“Why did you ask for my silence?” he asked. “Why wouldn’t you want your people to know all this?”

“To spare them the shame. If they knew how far we have fallen - the wonderful things we were once capable of that are now beyond our abilities – there are many who could not accept it. I would fear for their sanity. And seeing as how there is nothing we can do to regain our former glory, it was decided long ago to let the knowledge fade. Only a selected few of us keep that particular candle lit.”

“And the dragons?”

“I don’t know much. Only that, like humans and dwarves, they are not from Lumnia. Humans supposedly brought them here from Earth, and your family above all others have a special bond with them. Dragons were a big part of the human victory over the dwarves, and they remained a powerful reason we feared your kind…that is, until Shinzan came.”

“Do you know anything about him?”

“No more than anyone else. Just that he’s supremely powerful, and that his desire for death and destruction knows no bounds.”

Ethan’s head was spinning. Nothing was as he’d imagined. Burying his face in his hands, he tried to slow his thoughts.

Ganix leaned forward and gripped him on the shoulder. “First, I must teach you how to free Lady Lylinora. But that will take time. So for now, be glad that you and your friends are safe. Nothing can harm you here. Take pleasure and comfort while you can and enjoy what the dwarves have to offer. For your moment of peace will be fleeting. Soon, war will come.”

Ethan looked up and squared his shoulders. He could feel the heat of determination growing in his belly. Lylinora must be freed.

“How soon can we start?” he asked.

King Ganix flashed an enthusiastic smile. “Will right now suit you?”

Chapter Twenty-Four

G
eneral Hronso stood
at the base of the imme
nse staircase, his eyes fixed on the archway peeking out just over the top. The gold raven perched atop the keystone seemed to mock him every second he stared at it. It was a constant reminder of his hatred, and the source of his torment.

The echoes of hushed voices he had heard throughout the palace upon arrival continued to haunt him, swelling both his anger and his fear. Word of Dragonvein’s escape had not yet spread among the common soldiers; those who would have known had either been slain by the elves or buried alive in the mountain. But the most trusted of Shinzan’s inner circle were already well aware of his failure. The look in their eyes and the satisfied grins on their faces told him that. They hated him…almost as much as he hated
them
. Simpering fools, he thought. Sitting here, surrounded by their own ruin. Ignorant to the fact that, in the end, they will be no better off than the fools tending the fields or laboring in the mines.

“
I
know what you are,” he said in a whisper. “They don’t.”

The air grew suddenly cold. Shinzan had heard him. Hronso cursed himself for his stupidity. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut and clenched his fists.

“The Eternal Emperor Shinzan the Great demands to know why you delay.”

At the sound of the voice, Hronso’s eyes snapped open again. At the top of the stairs stood an old man in purple robes with gold trim: the attire of the Imperial Household. His eyes, although riddled with the lines of many years, were razor sharp, while his hawk-like nose and protruding jaw gave him a naturally haughty appearance.

Throwing back his hood, Hronso glared at the man. “And I demand to know when a servant has license to speak to the Emperor’s General without so much as a bow. Or has your status changed, Ional? You are still the Emperor’s court messenger boy, are you not?”

Ional lowered his eyes and took a step back.

It was all too easy to cow these vermin, Hronso considered. They were courageous when whispering in dark corners, but when facing him in person their fear had them whimpering like dogs. He could almost hear their gossip as he ascended the stairs.

Hronso was driven away by a mere
boy.

Hronso had to run home with his tail tucked firmly between his
legs.

Not that any of this was untrue. But no one knew the way in which events really unfolded. Not even Shinzan. Not that he would care.

As the general reached the top, Ional, refusing to look him in the eye, spun on his heels and walked away as quickly as he could through the archway. The black and red marble floor beyond was split down the center by white tiles that led directly to a raised dais. Atop this stood one of Shinzan’s thrones – he had three others scattered about the palace. The room itself was massive, spanning more than one-hundred feet across and twice as long, together with fifty-foot high ceilings. Black columns, so large that five men stretching hand-in-hand still wouldn’t be capable of reaching around their circumference, flanked the white tile path. Gold ravens as tall as a man hung on the walls every ten feet, with a five-pointed gold star set within the marble between each one of these.

The intricately carved throne was pure white ivory and gold – or that’s what people believed. Hronso knew better. What was imagined to be ivory, was in reality the bones of the Council of Volnar. Often during an audience he would notice the Emperor running his finger along the arm of the throne, an odd little smile on his face. Some claimed that he actually talked to it, even having entire conversations as if it were speaking back to him with a voice that only he could hear. Naturally, no one ever dared mention this in his presence.

On either side of the throne were two smaller archways, both of which led through to a courtyard at the back. Seeing that the throne was currently unoccupied, Hronso knew this was where Shinzan would currently be. The Emperor spent much of his time there sitting alone by the fountain, or perhaps with one or two of his concubines.

His long strides quickly overtook Ional.

“Wait,” the old man cried. “I must announce you.”

Hronso stopped short. Without turning around he said: “You will run as fast as you can, as far away from me as you can…now. Or I will present our beloved Emperor with your head.”

Ional paused for a moment. Then, on seeing the general’s hand drift into the folds of his cloak, ran for all he was worth from the chamber. Hronso did not move on until hearing the echo of his footfalls exit the archway.

Just as he reached the entrance to the courtyard, he stopped to see where the Emperor was located. If he was beside the fountain, this might just go well. If not…

The courtyard itself was nearly as large as the throne room itself, only without a ceiling. The fountain was crafted from a rare green stone found only in the mines of Syrius in the northern regions of Kytain. The dwarves had built it for him as a tribute several hundred years ago. It was made in the shape of a giant raven with wings spread and head tilted skyward. Water poured from both its beak, and the tips of its feathers, into a deep octagonal pool. Several benches surrounded the area. This is where Hronso was hoping to see the Emperor. But all the benches were empty.

Rows of rare flowers and neatly trimmed bushes created a series of narrow walking paths around the rest of the yard. But Shinzan was not to be seen on these either.

He took a few cautious steps forward. “Your Majesty?”

Pain ripped through his right shoulder, sending him lurching forward. Instinctively, he reached for his sword and spun around.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

There stood Shinzan, dressed in a white silk open-necked shirt and loose fitting trousers. His blond locks fell just past his shoulders in tiny ringlets, held back by the gold band on his brow.

Hronso instantly dropped to one knee. “Forgive me, Your Majesty. You surprised me.”

The Emperor loomed over him in silence. Slowly Hronso looked up. Shinzan was smiling. His chiseled jawline and perfect nose were neatly complemented by his deeply set blue eyes. In fact, many of his servants often spoke of the Emperor’s allure and charm. Handsome was not quite the word.
Striking.
That was what the women would whisper as he passed by.

Shinzan placed his hands on his hips and laughed. “Please, old friend. No need to grovel.”

Hronso rose and bowed. “You wanted to see me?”

At a signal from Shinzan, a young dusky-haired woman came through the archway toward them. She wore a sheer silken blue gown stitched with circular gold patterns, which in the light of the sun revealed that she had nothing else on beneath.

“Have you met Kariel?” the Emperor asked. The girl lowered her eyes and bowed respectfully to Hronso. “One of my agents rescued her from a brothel in Traxis and brought her here. Lovely, isn’t she?”

“Yes, Your Majesty. She is.”

Shinzan led her to a bench beside the fountain and sat down. “So, you are here to tell me more about your failure. Am I right?”

“It’s not as simple as that,” said Hronso, trying hard to keep any hint of irritation out of his tone.

Shinzan kissed Kariel’s hand and looked into her eyes. “Did you know that General Hronso was the very first Rakasa I created?” She shook her head. “It’s true. He is the first and the best. I thought it was good fortune that he was nearby when a portal opened in Malacar. I thought that surely the great General Hronso could handle such a simple matter for me.”

He turned to the general. His face darkened. “But I thought wrong, didn’t I?”

Hronso could see that the girl was trembling. Shinzan was squeezing her hand tighter and tighter. Then, all at once, his demeanor brightened and he relaxed his grip. Kariel let out a soft whimper.

“I’m sorry my dear,” he said, stroking her injured hand. “I’m afraid I allowed my temper to get the better of me.” His own hands then glowed with a radiant blue light.

Kariel gasped.

“All better?” he asked.

She nodded. “Yes, Your Majesty. Thank you.”

His attention returned to Hronso. “Tell me, old friend. Where is the son of Praxis Dragonvein?”

“He is being protected by the dwarves.”

“And why did you not catch him for me?”

Again, the air grew cold.

“There was no way to breach the mountain,” Hronso explained. “I sent one hundred soldiers to demand that they turn him over, but they never returned.”

“And why did you not go there yourself?”

“I didn’t think it was necess…”

Before Hronso could finish, Shinzan waved his hand. A line of black smoke sprang forth from the ground at the general’s feet. In a flash, it coiled itself around him like a foul serpent. He was instantly frozen in place. The pressure on his body mounted as the smoke tightened its hold. He gasped for air, but each time was finding it more and more difficult to breathe.

Kariel stared, fear stricken.

“There, there,” said Shinzan, stroking her hair. “No need to be afraid. This won’t kill him. Fortunately for the general, your considerable…talents have put me in a rather forgiving mood.”

He turned to Hronso, whose eyes were beginning to bulge far out of his head. “You should really thank Kariel, old friend. You know how I detest failure. Even from you.”

In a sudden puff, the smoke vanished.

Hronso fell to his knees, gasping. “I…will…go…at…once.”

“That is no longer necessary,” the Emperor told him. “Events have already been set in motion. I have other work for you.”

Hronso struggled to his feet. “I am at your command, Your Majesty.”

Shinzan regarded him, his eyes shining with an unnatural red light. “Yes, I know you are.”

End Book One