Page 60 of Heart of the Shadow King

So. Someone has penetrated the ward-wall after all.

A red beast stands before me, proud and muscular on four shining hooves from which tongues of flame burn. More flames engulf its body and spout from the coiled horn protruding from its forehead. It would be beautiful save for the ghoulish light blazing in its eyes.

On its back, untouched by the flames, sits a figure of equal power. A Licornyn, a unicorn rider. He wears no armor save a shoulder guard and gauntlet to protect his sword arm. His jet-black hair is swept back from a face sharpened to hard, merciless edges. A band of black warpaint streaks from temple to temple, and hellfire blazes in his eyes, reflecting off the twisted crown ringing his brow.

He looks at me where I stand beside the fallen giant, between him and the half-broken gate. His glowing eyes narrow to red slits. “Hail, Trolde King,” he says in a voice of crackling fire. “Why do you defend these walls?”

My helmet is gone and with it my crown. How does this man recognize me? I cast about for my sword, spy it protruding from the giant’s ruined eye, out of reach. I still have my great club strapped to my back, however. Gritting my teeth, I pull it free and assume a warrior’s stance. “I am bound to defend the walls of my allies.”

“Allies?” The Licornyn spits the word, his expression dark and terrible. “You are on the wrong side of this war.”

I shrug. “I’m not the one attacking a peaceful center of learning.”

The unicorn takes a step toward me, fire spurting from its hooves. “Do you not realize?” its rider growls. “Do you not see the truth? Once they’ve taken everything from us, they will not be sated. Their hunger will only grow. They’ll be coming for you next.”

I edge forward, teeth bared.“Enough talk, Licornyn!” I throw one arm wide, exposing my chest. “Let’s finish this!”

With a ululating battle cry, the Licornyn bows over the neck of his mount, urging it to charge. Unmounted though I am, I stand tall to meet it. I heave my club in a mighty arc, intending to crush the unicorn’s skull and send its rider hurtling to the ground. My aim is true; I can see the moment of impact manifest in my mind’s eye.

Quick as thought, the Licornyn’s sword arm flashes. His blade gleams with red hell-light as it cuts through my stone weapon, cleaving it in two.

25

FARAINE

Heat fills my senses.

I know this dream. I’ve had it before. This moment of terror as my feet draw near to the edge of a chasm. As I peer over the brink and down, down, down, into those terrible depths.

Darkness yawns.

And deeper still, in fathoms incomprehensible, the vast, churning, living mass at the center of the world.

She stirs.

A bellow of hot air blasts from below, scorches my skin, disintegrates my clothing, my hair. I am small, naked, and bald, covered in open blisters. And still, I stare down into that darkness, my eyes melting in their sockets as I seek to fathom the vastness of this mystery, the awesomeness of this terror.

My cracked lips form a single word without sound:Dragon.

The world under my feet begins to quake. I stagger, arms wheeling, struggle to keep my balance on that perilous edge. A crack opens beneath my feet, splits, widens. Crystals sing out a screeching harmony as I pitch, as I fall—

—and land hard on the floor of my chamber.

I gasp for air, scrambling for understanding as the world around me shakes. The very walls growl and groan. Heart in my throat, I stare at surroundings rendered unfamiliar in the light of swinginglorstcrystals. My room. My bed chamber. Deep in the Under Realm.

The dragon.

The thought has scarcely had a chance to crystalize before a chunk of stalactite breaks from the ceiling overhead and crushes my little breakfast table into fragments. Part of the carved mantel crashes to the hearth, glassware topples, shatters. The wardrobe on the far wall pitches forward, cracks open, spilling its contents just before they’re buried in a downpour of dust.

This is it.

This is the end.

The dragon has awakened.

Something flashes in the corner of my eye. I turn my head, my attention fixing on a single point: a fruit knife, fallen from my bedside table, bouncing and dancing on the wildly buckling floor. I snatch it up, little caring how the blade bites into my skin. Clenching my fingers hard, I feel the blood swell, then press my bloody hand into the floor.

Even through the wild rumble and growl, I feel them—all the millions of microscopicurzulcrystals embedded in every stone of this palace. I close my eyes, force my mind to concentrate through surging terror. Reach for the resonance of those stones and call it to me.

---