To think a human army won against such a creature was incredible.
“It sleeps,”said Eldred.
“I see that.”
Her curiosity overcoming her fear, she took a few steps forward.
“Do you know why it is bound in chains?”Eldred asked.
“Because the Empire couldn’t kill it, so they had to imprison it instead?”
“No. A dragon is like a living Power generator. The Empire stole secrets from many places to concoct its method of sourcing Power. A dragon’s heart is one of these. Gigatherions were created by the Empire in the dragon’s image, and Arland’s fire-dragon is kept alive in case a time comes when it will be more useful.”
Was the humming from the volcano the sound of the dragon’s heart? “They let such a dangerous thing live just in case it might be useful someday?”
“Would you be so afraid of an enemy you’ve conquered once before?”Arienne stared at the chains entwined over the dragon’s bulk. Eldred sneered.
“I shall not distract you. Go ahead. Try severing those chains.”
Arienne rehearsed the cutting spell a few times to loosen her tongue and concentrated on the black chains. She imagined them snapping in her mind. She remembered how Eldred’s and Lysandros’s arms had been severed. She recalled the images she had used when she had severed Tychon from Lysandros. She uttered the incantation. The Power blossomed on the tip of her tongue.
Sparks flew as the imaginary sword bounced off the chains, leaving not a dent. A wind blew past Arienne and hit the wall behind her, leaving a deep gash in the rock.
It didn’t work. And there was nothing else she knew of to try.
“How regrettable. Why not try again?”
Arienne by now had spent enough time with Eldred to recognize when he was mocking her.
Still, she tried again. This time, she swung Loran’s sword Wurmath on the chain as she cast the spell. The blade got caught in it. Her right arm and hand screamed in pain. The dragon groaned in its sleep. She pulled at the sword, trying to dislodge it, but it refused to budge. In her struggle, her hand slipped from the hilt. Arienne fell backward on her behind.
“Those chains were forged by the greatest of the great sorcerers of the Empire. They will not break for the likes of your little tricks.”
“Youtaught me this magic!”
“First, that spell is one you made up based on my magic, something akin to a baby’s babble. Second, you are simply too ignorant of true magic to understand the depth of it.”
“That babble sliced off your arms.”
“Then you should know, if you could do that after only a little of my guidance, I can more than break that chain myself. Release my legs.”
And there it was, the request she had been expecting to hear again for some time. She hadn’t expected, however, that her answer to Eldred would determine whether she would return to the fortress as a success or a failure.
“You defeated me once. Do you still fear me?”
Arland had never felt like a true home to her, but ever since she’d met Loran, she had felt a conviction that this task was something she had to do. All she had done until now was run away. Which was necessary then, but now she needed to accomplish something else. She needed to break the chain. She needed to do this if she did not want to have to run and hide ever again. If that meant having to face Eldred outside her mind’s room and defeat him again, so be it.
She looked in the room of her mind. It had been close to collapsing ever since Lysandros’s attack. Eldred was already standing and was facing her as she entered. She could see the discolored teeth in his face.
Imagining herself inside the room, Arienne unraveled the bandages from his legs. She cringed at the wet sound of skin being ripped as the bandages came off.
“Good,” Eldred said, without a hint of pain or discomfort. “I shall keep my promise.”
The unraveled bandages floated in the air and made a circle. A violet whirlpool ensued. Eldred limped toward it, perhaps the first steps he had taken in nearly two centuries.
Arienne immediately regretted what she had done.
She was trying to grab him when something exploded, and her consciousness was thrown out of the room of her mind.
