Halfstone: A Tale of the Narathlands (22 page)

The dragon gasped. “It cannot be.”

Malath lowered the Shard.

“Aashkara, what is this?” he demanded.

“I cannot say in certainty,” she said. “But it appears you may
have need of me yet, wielder. An olden enemy of mine approaches. And, if my
keen eyes are not mistaken, he is accompanied by humans, and one of your own
kin. I imagine that their cause conflicts not only with my own.” She glared at
him through fiery narrowed eyes.

The approaching dragon brought with it humans and a wielder?
Malath wondered who they could possibly be. If Aashkara was correct in thinking
that they had quarrel with him, it was a problem. The powers the Shard gave him
were not enough to defeat a dragon whose soul was not already his to toy with.
She was right. He still needed her help. This irritated him immensely. It was a
complication that wasn’t meant to be happening, and how could it be? Where had
this dragon come from? Had it traversed the plains of time? It should be dead!
It should be fragments of dry bone, dust on the wind! The one fortunate thing
was that it was Aashkara’s adversary.

“You will kill this dragon if it’s the last thing you do,” he
ordered.

“Indeed I shall,” Aashkara replied keenly. “I will crush him.” She
braced herself and roared thunderously in its direction.

Everyone was now watching the second dragon approach. There were
apprehensive murmurings amongst his faithful few. They were fearful. Dron and
Selayna both shot him glances, seeking reassurance. Malath had none to offer.
He secured the Shard in a pouch on his belt. With it there, he could safely
wield its storm. Somehow that storm no longer comforted him as much as it had.
He felt hot and flustered. A drop of sweat trickled from his brow.

18

GAMBLE OF THE
FATES

Illumir had not reacted to the dragon’s roar. In fact, he had been
silent for the entirety of the journey. He was likely harried by uncertainty,
and fairly so. They all were. The chasm down which the dragon’s foes had been
banished loomed ahead—a vast, hazy gouge in the landscape. There, at its edge, towered
the temple Darkna. Upon its court the awakened dragon watched them approach.
Near it were a number of figures whom Aldrick couldn’t identify from afar. Many
were wielders though, as they wore robes of various shades. One of them was
surely Malath.

It appeared that they were arriving at the eleventh hour. Events
had already been set in motion. To their right, Aldrick could see an army shrouded
by dust, marching toward Galdrem. Soon it would reach the surrounding villages.
They were Sanswords. Their presence told that Malath already had the Shard of
Heart’s Storm in his grasp. Fortunately, the greater threat to the entire world
was yet to be unleashed—the dragon had not yet broken the seal holding its kin
at bay. They could only pray that Illumir possessed the might to impede it. It looked
much larger than he was.

Malath, Aldrick wanted all to himself. The wielder was to pay for
all his villainy! Most of all, he was to pay for taking his parent’s lives. He
was to pay the dearest price.

Télia’s arms tightened around Aldrick. Her body felt cold. He was
unsure if this was because of the harsh wind hurtling past, or because she was
terrified. He took her hands and warmed them.

Illumir began to descend upon the court. As he neared, Malath’s
dragon took steps back, but not out of caution. It was merely granting Illumir
space to land. Its leviathan face was one of pure loathing. Aldrick glanced at
their audience. Jon was among them. His heart jumped. Jon was still alive! And
it appeared that he was accompanied by a friend or two! Aldrick raised a hand
in greeting. The others in the gathering were not allies. Behind their
expressions of awe and alarm was bitterness and blind hatred. This was most
telling on the face of a tall, aging wielder dressed in dark purple robes. It
was Malath. There was no doubt. He stood as a self-righteous commander would. Aldrick
felt a fire suddenly rage inside him, synchronous with a surge of storm. He
wanted to attack the worthless murderer right now! But he knew that words must
first be shared. There was the safety of his companions to consider also. He
hadn’t the freedom to be reckless.

Illumir landed lightly, then lowered a wing to allow them down. Aldrick
stood, wielded a warding wall between them and Malath, then turned to Télia and
Kaal. “Stay behind me, all right. Promise me you won’t go intentionally
blundering into harm’s way, even if I’m done-in.”

Kaal nodded. “Suits me, Brother.”

Télia frowned. “Aldrick, I’m your—”

“I relieve you of duty,” Aldrick interrupted. “I need you alive
more than anything, damn it!”

Her frown became a smile. “You’re just an idiot. Why do I even
bother?”

He returned her smile, vividly aware that it might well be the
last time he was ever able to, then took a breath and made his way down onto
the court.

“Aldrick, I will watch over you and your humans,” Illumir said calmly.
“You must not rely on me, though. My winged foe will keep me from that foul
wielder at any cost. If he falls, so does she.” His and the red dragon’s eyes
were locked.

Aldrick nodded. “Thanks, Illumir. You can best her. I know you
can.”

The dragons now wrathfully bore down on each other and a fierce
dispute erupted that sounded like an ocean-born tempest. They took to the
skies. Aldrick turned and faced Malath. The wielder stood staring back at him
with an expression of puzzlement upon his ashen face.

“You,” he muttered, taking steps forward to survey Aldrick more
closely. “I know who you are… yes, yes… I can see it in your face. You are the
Aedimons’ child.” He sneered, then turned to address his companions. “It
appears this untimely interruption brings with it a small fortune!” he
exclaimed. “An opportunity to see Isobel’s child out of this world myself.” There
was some dutiful sniggering and jeers but most eyes were on the skies, watching
the dragon’s feud unfold. Malath turned slowly back to face Aldrick, a deathly
smirk painted on his face. Suddenly, Aldrick felt very small. Malath had a
strikingly sinister presence. He was evil, deeply hate-filled.

Aldrick attempted to stow his nerves. “I haven’t come so you can
see me out of this world, Malath. I am here to avenge my parents. It is your
life that will be taken… by me.”

“Oh,” said Malath contemptuously. “Oh I see. You are trying to be
the hero, just as they did.” He scowled. “I killed both of them! Your father I
turned to ashes on this very ground. And your mother… we found her in her
little valley hideaway. My faithful held her down and I slit her throat.
Slowly.” His deathly expression became one of contemplation. “You must have
been nearby that day… a discarded infant.”

Rage seared through Aldrick like wildfire. Once more the urge to
strike was near overwhelming. He looked across at Jon. Jon looked back with an
expression that told he was ready for conflict. His frail fists were clenched.

“Tell me, how it that you come to be here today?” Malath asked.
“That dragon—you found it somewhere? That accursed stone was a part of it,
wasn’t it?” He crossed his arms and chuckled. “Please tell me you weren’t
planning to try what your mother did. You have not the will to take my storm
from me.”

“Yes, I found the dragon and yes, the Halfstone was once part of
it.” Aldrick stood straight. “But I don’t think you heard me—I have come for
your life. I care not for your storm.”

Malath’s eyes narrowed. “Oh but you ought to care. The Shard has
ascended my power to new heights. You are a pittance before me. I will smite
you down!”

Aldrick knew the situation was dire. Just what exactly had he
planned to do? He was an ant and Malath was a very large boot. He looked up.
Illumir and his adversary circled each other cagily. Their dispute had not yet
become violent. He doubted it would be so for much longer.

As if he had somehow sensed the imminent peril below, Illumir
suddenly dived and landed again on the court. The dragon rounded on Malath.
“You—do you truly intend to battle my friend whilst you possess such deviant
power? You must be foul indeed.”

“Silence, lizard!” retorted Malath. “With or without the Shard I
could snap this whelp in two.”

“Is that so? Then why don’t you prove it?” Illumir opened his
jaws.

Malath reeled back and grasped a pouch that was attached to his
belt.

“No!” he cried. “Aashkara, stop this!”

The great red dragon was already in a dive. She swooped down on
Illumir and lunged for his neck. Illumir was quick to evade. Suddenly a
flickering green object flew from Malath’s pouch which the dragon devoured. It
was the Shard of Heart’s Storm!

“No, NO!” Malath hurled a raging fireball at Illumir. It struck
his chest but failed to scorch his stone exterior. Illumir ignored the attack,
for now he was caught in a ferocious clash with Aashkara.

“Brother!” A woman draped in blue scurried up to Malath. It was
his sister, Selayna. She was hysteric. “Brother, the Sanswords!”

Malath whirled around and looked across the land toward Galdrem.
The dust which the Sanswords had stirred was lifting, revealing that the army
had all but disappeared—returned to the Life Afterwards. He let out a cry of
anguish. “I cannot sustain their life without the Shard! The dragon robbed me
of it!”

A number of Malath’s followers were fleeing. They feared his loss
of power and control. Their faithfulness was not as strong as he might have
hoped! This was the opportunity they needed. The battle ground had been
levelled, save for the fact that Malath’s power remained unequalled.

Aldrick turned to Télia and Kaal. “Keep your distance, both of
you. This will be a clash of storm.”

“No, fool, remember Jon’s teachings. Wield your weapon and your
storm as one.” Télia looked at him with an expression of both affection and
terror.

Aldrick turned away. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing her.
“If you are to fight, fight only aeras. Have no quarrel with the wielders. Look
out for each other. If you are injured call out to be healed… don’t die.” He drew
his sword and faced Malath. The filth and his sister were still lamenting the
losses of the Shard and prized army. Now Aldrick glanced across at Jon. Calmly,
Jon looked back and gave a single, subtle nod. He and his friends were ready.

Aldrick knew that he had little chance of defeating Malath if he
held onto the anger which seethed inside him, as much as it might stoke his
storm. He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath of the afternoon air. He
let all sound fade into the background. The roaring and booming of the dragons
became muffled murmurs. He pictured his mother’s grave in his mind, felt soft
golden grass beneath his feet. The flower he had placed on her headstone was
still there, fresh and open. The sun was warm, the breeze, cool. He turned around.
She and Gilthred stood together in the middle of that crystal clear tarn. They
were beaming at him. He smiled back. That same sense of clarity that he had
felt after first finding the grave washed over him. Now his storm truly surged
within him. It was strong. He opened his eyes.

“Malath!”

Malath stopped speaking with his sister and slowly twisted to face
Aldrick. His dark eyes flashed. He drew his own one-handed blade and gripped
his staff in the other.

“Well, Aedimon, what are you waiting for?” he yelled savagely.

Aldrick charged at him. In the same moment Jon and his two friends
moved on Selayna and Malath’s remaining allies. Aldrick’s blade became fire in
his hands, its metal white hot. Malath stood fast, inviting him to strike. He
swung at him with all his might. Malath crossed sword and staff before him,
forging a warding wall. As Aldrick’s blade struck it, lightning erupted from
the tip and lashed at Malath. There was a succession of bright blue flashes and
the wielder’s staff disintegrated. He staggered back, shaken.

“Ah, your father’s trickery,” he spat, hastily recomposing
himself. “I might have known!”

Now he attacked. A wall of ice struck Aldrick, throwing him across
the court. Its sting was agonizing but his hardened nerves made it tolerable.
Almost instinctively, he healed himself and found his feet.

“Strong, aren’t you!” exclaimed Malath, advancing on him. “The
same cannot be said for your parents. Those two were pitiable. They were
nothing without those special little abilities of theirs. Your mother stole my
powers from me because she was afraid, as you should be. I am almighty and I
will destroy you as I did them!” He hurled a raging fireball at Aldrick, who
leapt out of its path in the nick of time.

In the corner of his eye, Aldrick saw Télia and Kaal engaged in
combat with enemy aeras. He had to take this fight away from them. He bolted
for the temple.

“Where are you going, whelp?” Malath pursued him.

Aldrick felt gravity working against him but persisted forward,
determined to keep Malath’s attention from the others. He sped through the
hall, across dust and ruin. Ahead of him, stairs wound up around an abandoned
altar. He scaled them and found himself on a huge terrace that overlooked the
chasm. He wheeled around. Malath appeared.

“Nowhere to hide now, is there?” he snarled.

Aldrick raised his sword. “Come on!”

Malath lunged at him. Their swords met and fire erupted between
them. Malath’s fury was fierce, his storm potent. The flames edged closer to Aldrick,
licking at his cloak.

Suddenly Malath leapt back. “What… what is this? You’re trying
your mother’s trick now, aren’t you?! Do you not think that is cheating, whelp?”

Aldrick realised he had briefly drained some of Malath’s storm.
Now he felt weak. Wielding the ability had depleted his own.

“It wasn’t cheating,” he said. “If so, only as much as bringing
things back from the dead is.”

Malath snorted. “It is my right to do so. I am divinity, with or
without the power of the Shard. You on the other hand… you are lesser. You
cower behind power that you are unworthy of!” There was a tone of anger in his
voice now.

“Tell me then—who is worthy?”

“Those who look up to me.”

“You’re mad.”

“I beg to differ.” Malath swung at him. Aldrick lifted his sword
in defence but this time it was struck from his hand. A searing pain shot up
his arm and he dropped to his knees.

Malath lifted Aldrick’s chin with the tip of his blade and leered
down at him with hateful eyes. “Time to leave this world, whelp. Die knowing that
I will go on and slaughter all whom you hold dear.
Then,
I will return them and do it again, over and over. I will toy with their souls
until they have nothing left, in this world or the next. Your helpless soul
will know only of their suffering.”