Dragon Horn Page 18

  The opaque bubble cruised down the trail, about four feet below Alayna. If my timing was off by a nanosecond, my mentor would die. Everything appeared in slow motion as I watched in horror. It looked like Alayna was falling too fast and my bubble was going to miss.

  I tried to will the bubble to speed up, but that didn’t work. Alayna crashed perilously toward the venomous fangs of the giant snakes. Falling headfirst and flailing her arms, I couldn’t imagine what was going through Alayna’s head.

  The bubble flew over her and barely caught Alayna’s foot. A variation of centripetal force in the bubble pulled Alayna into the clear chamber of protection. The faerie floated inside the magical protection above the snakes that were trying to devour her.

  Luckily, the bubble was firm and the snakes kept bouncing off it. They got frustrated but continued trying to penetrate the protection with clasping bites.

  Burn sprang into action, unleashing her weapons. Two fire-spewing swords flew through the air, rotating from point to pommel, toward the venomous snakes.

  The blade of one sword tore through several of the snakes, just below their heads. The remaining snakes dodged the second sword, and stared at their fallen friends, hissing in a different tone. A frightened tone. They’d forgotten about eating Alayna and were now worried about saving themselves.

  The enormous reptiles bit into the fallen snakes and slinked back into the forest. The ogre grabbed Alayna, lock bubble and all, and tossed her into his mouth. Worry coursed through my veins, knowing that the ogre’s bite could be strong enough to break the protection barrier.

  I’d never battled or studied about ogres so I wasn’t sure what type of magic would be best. Time was running out so I made a decision and hoped for the best.

  “We need to work together, binding our dark and pure magic together. That might make it strong enough to kill this thing. Call on more fire,” I instructed Burn.

  She nodded and instantly two fireballs appeared in her hands. I conjured up heat by mentally diving into an active volcano and bathing in the lava. I sent the heat throughout my entire body, then back to my chest. Finally, I sent the rush of fire down my arms and it appeared in my hands.

  We handed each other one of our fireballs and began to coalesce the two. I said, “Aim for his midsection.”

  We looked like two kids forming snowballs. “Ready?” I asked.

  Burn nodded confidently.

  I said, “On three. One. Two. Three.”

  Chapter 25

  We flung our imperfect fireballs at the target. As they raced toward the ogre, the two balls combined into one super spheroid of fire. The enlarged fireball of dark and pure magic ripped into the belly of the beast.

  An explosion of black blood, internal organs and two slime covered animals that looked like goats sprang out of his midsection from the impact and the flames continued through the ogre’s thick frame, leaving a hole in the giant. His eyes bulged, about to pop, and he fell face first into the ground.

  The one thing I was sure would happen, didn’t happen. I’d expected the ogre to scream in pain, thus expelling my mentor.

  With great haste, Burn and I ran over and tried to pry the dead ogre’s mouth open. His jaw seemed like it was clamped shut. Burn grabbed his upper lip and I wrestled with his chin to get the mouth open. I knew time was running out and smashed my fists into the dead ogre’s face in frustration.

  I called on the Dagda, the Celtic God of Wisdom and Power, to lend me some of his strength. I wedged my foot under his top row of brown teeth, kicking up his overbite and pried my fingers between two of his molars. I kicked the overbite a couple more times in an attempt to sink my fingers in further.

  With all my might and the borrowed strength of a Celtic God, the trap door started to open slowly. Burn jumped in and pulled on the lower jaw to help me. We managed to get it almost halfway open when the lifeless body of Alayna spilled out of the crack.

  The bubble had been broken and she was covered in the ogre’s thick saliva. She was not breathing, so I called on some healing magic. Remembering the lessons of Dian Cècht, the Healing God, I drew on some positive energy to get her systems going again.

  Feeling the electricity coursing through me, I rubbed my fiery hands together and felt the spark I needed. My hands could now act as defibrillator paddles. My palms hovered over her chest but I didn’t yell “clear” like the doctors. As soon as my hands made contact, Alayna’s body was jolted about two feet off the ground and she landed roughly.

  I placed my finger against her wrist and checked for a pulse. Nothing. She still wasn’t breathing. I rubbed my hands together again as doubt crept into my mind. I’d never used much healing magic and I wasn’t sure if this would work.

  Action seemed to move into slow motion and I could feel my heartbeat in my ears.

  Thump, thump.

  Thump, thump.

  I took a few deep breaths to control my erratic lungs and moved in for another shock.

  Alayna’s body jumped again and this time I could see the wave of healing magic rush over her body. She landed and moved spastically, which was a good sign. Her eyes—her beautiful blue eyes fluttered open. Holy shit. We’d saved her from being eaten by an ogre.

  We hugged each other, but nobody spoke. Or maybe they did. I didn’t notice. Assuming Alayna was still in shock, I certainly didn’t know what to say, and we stood in silence.

  Burn and I helped Alayna get over to a nearby stream and get cleaned up. Her leather outfit had taken a beating over the past few days. My mentor walked along the stream with a severe limp. She kept pressing different spots around her ankle. Several winces of pain told me that it was a pretty bad injury.

  Was she going to Felix out? I asked, “Are you all right?”

  In a daze, she looked up at me, and answered, “I believe so. I suppose I’m not the warrior I once was.”

  I immediately responded, “Are you joking? You were amazing. We all know how things can go in a brawl. I’m just glad we could save you.”

  Burn asked, “Are you going to be able to go on? Looks like you’re favoring that left ankle.”

  “I’ll be fine. This will all go away in a few days.” She seemed embarrassed, which was ridiculous. “I have a few healing spells up my sleeve.” She smiled though the pain. “I just need to take the swelling down and deal with the pain for now. I can feel that you used healing magic on me, so I can’t use any more for at least a day or two.”

  The centaur and dullahan emerged from the woods near the stream. I’d nearly forgotten about them in all the madness. The centaur and headless dullahan bowed in their own unique ways as they approached.

  The centaur said, “We thank you mightily for helping us take care of that problem. Those ogres could have run amok and destroyed all of our precious land. Allow us to take you to the Rosendales.”

  “Hail Rosendales,” the dullahan added, unenthusiastically. “We will regale them with tales of your courage in battle. We must also report the casualties we suffered.”

  After walking about twenty yards, it was clear that Alayna was hurting big time. She was lagging behind and dragging her left leg. I slowed down and waited for her to catch up. “Why don’t you let me carry you?”

  “I’m fine, Mike, really,” she said, dismissively.

  I knew she was a proud woman who hated assistance, so I didn’t expect her to jump into my arms. “No you aren’t. I know you don’t like accepting help, but it’s me. The guy whose life you saved. When you told me I shared a bloodline with Merlin, it awakened my deadened soul. It made me want to live again when death seemed like the only option. You’re one of my heroes. It would be an honor for me to finally help you.”

  Alayna reluctantly gave in. She was stubborn and had been the queen of this land. Being carried around like a little kid had to rub her the wrong way and I understood. My aching body was thankful that Alayna weighed about the same as a feather.

  I cradled her in my arms as we continued. She rubbed her
swollen ankle and closed her eyes to deal with the pain. I thought about how lucky Burn and I had been not to suffer any injuries yet.

  The centaur called out, “The Rosendales are just up ahead.”

  “Hail Rosendales,” said the dullahan, this time with more enthusiasm.

  We approached what appeared to be a small village in the middle of the woods. We passed mud huts in the beginning, but as we went on, they gave way to unpainted wooden houses. The poorly built houses increased in size and quality as we walked down a dirt path toward a valley. About a minute later, we approached a hillock with a huge reddish-brown house at the very top. A castle, really.

  The centaur and dullahan led us up the incline. The dirt path ended and we hit golden grass with rows of dullahans on horseback lining both sides and creating an imposing walkway. A group of faeries, wings buzzing like bees, hovered above the horsemen. Elves crouched behind the rows of horses, peeking between the equines’ legs for a view of the spectacle.

  The white horses stomped their front feet in rhythm, creating an ominous marching beat for us to follow. The equines’ legs and bodies were fitted with silver armor. They even wore battle helms with ivory horns on top of them, making them look like unicorns.

  All the dullahans held their severed heads at their sides, next to the saddle. Most of the detached heads showed signs of sadness. Misty eyes, flushed cheeks and trembling lips dominated most of the faces. Through it all, they sat up honorably at attention, tall and proud in their respective saddles.

  It was obvious from the grief of the dullahans, faeries and elves that word of the battle and the resulting casualties had traveled fast. Up ahead, at the stone steps leading up to what could be considered a mansion or small castle, were two dullahans who appeared a bit different from the rest.

  Alayna had been correct in her assessment that the married couple carried each other’s heads. The couple was dressed in Victorian style clothing. The woman wore a cerulean gown speckled with red splotches that I assumed were blood stains. I’d seen the bloody fashion statement several times during the trip.

  The man was attired in a full black suit with a silver vest and tie.

  Their clothes were dirty, and they sat atop two ornery destriers that snapped at us as we neared the couple. The horses were adorned magnificently in gleaming silver armor stained with speckles of burgundy and brown mud. Both horses were crowned with a headdress made of woven strips of oak carrying a shining ruby that sat right between their eyes.

  I was surprised the loose garment stayed on their heads as their necks jerked around. The war horses remained ready for an outbreak of violence.

  The male carried his wife’s head. The woman had a pale face with cheeks covered sloppily in rouge and long dark hair. Her big lips began to move. “Welcome to the land of the Rosendales.”

  The entire brigade lining the path screamed out, “Hail Rosendales.” They punctuated it with a uniform double stomp from their horses.

  The centaur cried, “I present Mirera [my-rah] and Fetterman Rosendale.”

  Everyone erupted again, “Hail Rosendales.”

  I set Alayna down and introduced my crew, “Hello. I’m Darryl.” I pointed to Burn as I continued, “This is Clarice, and this is Sarah.” I hoped they were happy with the fake name designations.

  The man had stains of dirt or uneven stubble covering his cheeks and chin. His upper lip was clean shaven though. He had long, dark hair that his wife held tightly and his head sat next to her hip, cheek pressed against the fabric of her dress.

  He said, “It would appear we may be indebted to you three.”

  It was strange enough that beings would still be living with decapitated heads, but carrying each other’s heads took it to a whole new level. I said, “Funny you should mention that. We are trying to gain passage to the Great Expanse.”

  Burn suggested, “Perhaps you could let us pass for our good deed.”

  “A wonderful deed, indeed.” Mirera laughed and her subjects joined in. “We will feast you and celebrate your victory, doubtless. However, there will be no currying of favors.” The dullahans spoke with a mixture of an English and a southwestern cowboy accent.

  I argued, “Without us, most of your land could have been destroyed. I think that is worth letting us pass through.”

  Seemingly in tune with each other, the woman twisted her wrist and her husband shook his head. Fetterman explained, “We cannot do it. If we drew special exceptions for you, we would have to do it for all our citizens. If one of our citizens had killed the ogres, they would still have to pay pittance for food tomorrow.”

  Mirera chimed in, “What we can do is make the test easy due to your noble actions. We will come up with something that will please us, but also make passage easy.”

  I’d already been down this road with the Sphinx. The word ‘easy’ had different connotation depending on the person using it.

  The dullahan couple held the two heads close together and they began whispering to each other. After a short discussion, they returned to their normal spots, next to their partner’s right hip.

  The woman said, “I get the feeling one of you has a beautiful voice. We want to hear a lovely song.”

  This was going to be easy. Alayna had one of the best voices I’d ever heard. I looked down at her and said, “You want to warm up those vocal cords so we can skedaddle?”

  Even with the leather mask on, Alayna’s eyes widened with concern that I couldn’t ignore. She shook her head so I turned to Burn. “Can you sing?”

  “Aah, aah, uh, aah. Lo, me, fa, to, li, do,” Burn belted out. She seemed to get the words mixed up, but her voice was amazing, still ringing in my ear canals.

  Mirera objected, “That’s not a song. Although that was lovely, we want a song that everyone can enjoy.”

  Fetterman mused, “Sweetness, what was that one new-fangled ditty we heard about ten years ago? Something about a woman doing something.”

  Mirera’s eyes lit up. “Aah, yes, what was that mesmerizing song that our horses enjoyed so?”

  “I think it was called ‘She’s so wonderful,’” guessed Fetterman.

  His wife objected, “No, that wasn’t the name.”

  “The hell it weren’t.” Fetterman’s eyes peered around. “Who has a better memory than me?”

  Mirera cackled. “Everyone has a better memory than you. Now shut your mouth and let me think.”

  “How dare you talk to me like that, woman?” barked her husband.

  “Woman?” She huffed. “I have a name, you know. And a lovely one at that.”

  Fetterman said, “I guess I can’t remember it seeing as how my mind must be made of mush. Just like you said.”

  Her forehead became as bright as the makeup on her cheeks. “Ooh, you’re making me mad. You want to break out the dramatic acting? Well then, you can just kiss my ass.” Mirera’s body stood up on her platform stirrups and shoved her husband’s face into her butt. She screamed, “Get a good taste and kiss it. Pucker up. Mwuah, mwuah, mwuah.” Yelling in pain, she suddenly jerked the head away from her buttocks. “Stop biting me right now.”

  “You started it,” Fetterman said, and held his wife’s head in front of his chest. He made a V with his pointer and middle finger and poked his wife in the eyes. “How’s that feel?”

  She cried out in pain, “Stop it. This is not chivalrous behavior. We are to set an example for our citizens.” She held her husband’s head in front of her and fixed his parted hair. “I’m sorry if you’re sorry. Oh, that’s it. I remember the name.”

  “What’s it?” Fetterman asked, smiling as his wife stroked his hair. I hoped the uncomfortable argument, although hilarious, was over.

  A smug grin appeared on her face even though her eyes were still watering from the poking. “The song. The name of the song was, “She’ll be coming around the mountain.”

  Everyone within earshot cried out, “Woo hoo.”

  “There she is,” said Fetterman with a goofy sm
ile glued to his face. “That was it. Remember how we were dancing and had a good time? Are you familiar with this one?”

  I shrugged because I only knew the first line and wasn’t a good singer. Burn stood as still as a statue. Alayna nodded slowly and spoke in a disguised accent that sounded like she had too much food in her mouth, “I am familiar with that one.”

  Perfect.

  “Now every one of our select group is excited, so we have to set a time.” Mirera bit her bottom lip and contemplated the time allowance. “You’ve got a half-hour to please our ears. Let us know when you’re ready.” She pulled a small hourglass out of her saddle pocket and tipped it over.

  Just for shits and giggles, I asked, “What happens if we can’t turn out a lovely song?”

  The eyes of the dullahan rulers gestured down. Mirera said, “You get the stomp.”

  I peered down at Alayna for clarification. She just shook her head with an intense look in her eyes, telling me to drop it.

  The dullahans spurred their horses and took off down the hill. The rest of their retinue followed, leaving our core three alone at the base of the Rosendales’ castle.

  I asked Alayna, “What the hell is the stomp?”

  My mentor explained, “A more apt term would be a horse stomp. If we don’t succeed, they will allow their horses to stomp us to death.”

  Chapter 26

  I smiled at Alayna. “I thought those were bloodstains on their protection. What a weird culture. We rescue them from ogres and they threaten to have us stomped to death. At least this is easy since you know the song.”

  Her lips never moved, and she spoke firmly, “There is a slight problem.”

  “How so?” Burn asked.

  “The Rosendales know me. Actually, they know Queen Al. They know my voice. They will recognize it and although I was friends with them, my curse affected them greatly. I can’t be sure they won’t turn on us if they find out my true identity.”