Serpent Kings Saga (Omnibus Edition) Read online

  OVERRUN

  Tobias watched Gwen go before picking his pistol off of the floor. He ran to the table and threw it up into a standing position, exposing Ezekiah’s sleeping form. “Wake up, Ezekiah!” he shouted frantically. “They’ve taken Gwen! We’ve got to get out of here!”

  Ezekiah stirred groggily, then instantly became alert. “Where is she?” he asked urgently.”

  “One of those women took her.”

  “How did I get down here?” he asked.

  “She saved your life, Ezekiah,” Tobias said. “I thought she had betrayed you when she knocked you out, but she hid you under the table so they wouldn’t kill you. She kept them from killing me too.”

  Ezekiah looked at him knowingly and nodded. “Amazing girl,” he said.

  An explosion ripped the air ahead of the train. The dragon could be heard roaring in pain. Ezekiah and Tobias jumped to the window in time to see Moloch plummeting toward the valley below with nearly twenty wraith dancers attached to a harness on his back. Just before crashing into the valley below, the dragon unfurled his wings, caught the air and shot out over the valley. Ezekiah and Tobias both breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that Gwen was now among those flying with him.

  However, their relief was short lived. Bullets began to ricochet off of the train cars. The glass windows of the presidential car spider-webbed as shots impacted and bounced away from the thick panes meant to protect ancient men of renown. “Let’s get the men out of here,” Ezekiah said, dragging Tobias with him toward the back of the car. “Varen and his men have the weapons already.”

  They passed out of the presidential car, through the rear sliding door, then hopped to the adjacent car and down onto the bridge. “Be careful,” Ezekiah warned. “Don’t fall through the cross ties. It’s a long way down.”

  Tobias followed the older man easily as they made their way back along the train on the left side that curve outward. The gunfire was only able to hit the train on the inward curve due to the shape of the bridge. They ran past the car where the men had been hit by acid. Hudson was on the same side of the boxcar trying to help the wounded out. The others had been killed too quickly for the physician to be able to do anything for them.”

  “We’ve got to get the men out of here!” Hudson shouted.

  “I know.” Ezekiah said as he ran past him. “Get everyone into the last two cars! Tobias, help him!”

  Tobias assisted Hudson with the wounded as they made their way limping down the outside curve of the train toward the final two cars. They passed Ezekiah where he had gone in between the boxcars. He waved them past, knowing that Tobias might have stopped to question him or try to help.

  Gunshots continued to ring out around them as bullets pinged off the metal cars. Ezekiah could hear that Varen’s men had likely reached the front of the train by now. “Are you in?” He shouted to Hudson.

  After a few moments, Hudson finally replied. “We’re all in, Ezekiah!”

  Ezekiah threw the switch to release the lock which held the two train cars together. Slowly but surely gravity took over and the downward slope of the bridge pulled the two boxcars away from the rest of the train. Ezekiah ran quickly to join the others inside the nearest boxcar before it sped away from him.

  More shots rang out against the metal wall of the boxcar as they pulled away. Some of Ezekiah’s men with rifles returned fire, but it was futile at this point. The cars were speeding along faster and faster down the grade toward the tunnel they had come through only minutes before stopping on the bridge.

  Ezekiah took one last look out the door, finding Varen’s soldiers now swarming around the engine and what was left of the train. The tunnel and near total darkness soon swallowed the boxcars and those who had survived the brief but deadly encounter. Ezekiah took a moment to breath and let the tension out of his muscles. He was trying to figure out why he had been led to come on this journey by Elithias. Varen already had the weapons before they could arrive, the girl had been taken from him and many of his men had been killed. Everything had gone utterly wrong.

  Varen watched as his men ran down the length of the train firing on the boxcars that were now beyond their reach. They were Ezekiah’s men, certainly, but he wasn’t sure if the prophet had been among them. It was likely, he thought. The two stray cars quickly gained sufficient speed to get away. The far tunnel soon took them in. They had escaped.

  This mattered very little to Varen at this point. He had used the weapons to strike one of the dragons who had somehow shown up at the same time as Ezekiah’s men. The possibility that they were somehow working together in a coordinated attack was simply too preposterous to even consider. Still, the dragon had come and been driven away by one of the projectile weapons his men had discovered in the cavern.

  He had explored enough to know that the cave was actually a tunnel. The train tracks running into the cavern and along its length also led out away from it. Almost certainly, had he walked through to find out, Varen would have discovered another tunnel exit on the other side of the mountain.

  As he walked up to the engine compartment of the ancient locomotive, Jillian appeared from within. “Varen, I think there’s someone here you should meet,” she said, grinning.

  Varen stepped up onto the first step so that he could see inside. On the floor of the engineer’s cab sat an elderly man that he recognized. Varen smiled at the man. “Arthur, so good to see you still alive,” he said.

  Arthur had a bullet wound in his arm, but appeared to be otherwise unharmed. He was shaking. “Varen, what are you going to do to me?” he asked.

  Varen grinned fiendishly. “Nothing at all, my old friend, as long as you cooperate.”

  HOMECOMING

  The flight home had been relatively uneventful compared to the battle we had just survived back in the Urtah Mountains. Moloch’s breathing had been noticeably labored throughout our journey. The explosive round dealt by Varen’s soldiers coming from the tunnel had done more damage than I would have expected. After all, Moloch was supposed to be a god.

  Why had he not anticipated the attack, caused the mountains to crumble and cover Varen’s men, or simply dismissed the explosion as a mere scratch? Each new incident had created new questions in my mind. And still, I had not managed to answer the questions Ezekiah had posed. It frustrated me to no end, but I didn’t let it be known.

  Zora had been completely thrilled to find me safe. All the way home and after she repeatedly told me how much she had worried that Ezekiah and his rebels had tortured or killed me. Once I might have shared that opinion of the man and his followers. But now I could not fathom the association.

  I had been with them, had talked to Ezekiah himself. From what I had seen, he was nothing like I had been told. Instead of torture, I had been well-fed and clothed. Instead of the icy grip of death, I had been raised and rescued from it. Slowly but surely I felt myself letting go of the old assumptions in favor of more clarity based upon what I had witnessed.

  I found myself glad that I had saved Ezekiah’s life just before he could be discovered by Zora and the other wraith dancers. However, I had failed in my mission. I had already been sent word from Zora that we were to stand before Belial to be questioned about what had happened. Again, I wondered why a god would need to ask.

  Our trip home had taken several days; a little longer for Moloch’s wounds and associated fatigue. Once back at the palace of Belial, I was immediately cloistered away. My seclusion had lasted over a week now. I received my meals from silent priestesses who dared not speak with me. I also knew better than to attempt conversation with them. It wasn’t necessarily a punishment, but it felt like one nonetheless.

  I waited and waited some more. With nothing better to do than think, I found my questions hounding me all the more. Doubts continually stalked me like predators. Strangely, though, I found my fears somewhat lacking. I knew that at any moment the door might open and I would be escorted to stand before the High Serpent King. Yet, despite his
terrifying appearance, something had changed in my heart concerning him.

  No longer could I find the awe-inspired reverence for the dragons. I had seen and heard too much to simply dismiss it, and upon closer scrutiny my gods were lacking. The dragons were not omniscient. Too many facts appeared to elude them.

  The dragons were not omnipotent. I had been told of numerous attempts on Ezekiah’s life by wraith dancers sent by Belial. Yet the man lived. Even my own attempt had failed. As far as Ezekiah and his followers were concerned it was their god, Elithias, who kept him alive despite the dragon’s best efforts. I wasn’t sure, but the evidence was certainly disconcerting for a dragon worshipper.

  The dragons were not omnipresent. This much I already knew, but had never questioned it until recently. I would have even allowed for that much; that a god might inhabit a physical form and therefore restrict himself from dwelling in all places at once. After all, this Elithias was said to have dwelt upon the earth in a physical form during some period of the ancient world.

  But how could a mere man thwart the purposes of a god over and over as Ezekiah had done? He did not claim to be a god himself. In fact the opposite was true. My only logical conclusion had to be that Belial and the other dragons were not really gods at all. And still some part of me rejected that despite the evidence—that part that had been trained to believe it from my youth up.

  As night fell before my barred window, I lay down upon my bed and tried to put everything out of my mind. With no more information coming to me, I had no idea how long I was meant to remain in seclusion. Where I was meant to be holding a vigil of prayer unto the gods, I was actually fostering only doubt and confusion. But there was nothing for it. I closed my eyes hoping tomorrow would be the day when I stood before the dragon again.

  AUDIENCE

  On the thirtieth day of my seclusion, the door opened to a pair of priestesses who had brought my robes and fresh water and soap for bathing. They attended to my needs, and then escorted me out of the cloister to a private room where I was fed a good meal of roast chicken on a bed of steamed vegetables. The women did not speak to me, except to specifically instruct me. I could see they would not be engaged, so I made no attempt.

  Still, I was exceedingly glad to have been brought out of seclusion. I was also wondering if I would be made to stand before Belial today and what might happen when I did. I had been given so much time to ponder my life and what had happened recently that anyone questioning my beliefs at that moment might have thought me a heretic.

  After my meal, I was escorted through the palace to the familiar vestibule outside of Belial’s private chamber. I was relieved to find Zora already sitting upon one of the marble benches waiting for me. My escorts stood aside watching, but did not leave.

  Zora crossed the small room to embrace me. She whispered in my ear, “I have been so worried. Are you all right?”

  I practically melted in her arms as tears welled up in my eyes and trailed down my cheeks. “I am well, Zora,” I whispered in reply.

  She squeezed me tightly and I began to sob on her shoulder. I knew the escorts were watching, but I didn’t care anymore. My seclusion, rather than meditative and tranquil, had been like torture. “Why have they done this to me?” I said.

  Zora seemed almost taken aback by my question. “Gwen, you know as well as I do that seclusion is always the case in this type of situation. It gives the wraith dancer time for reflection and—”

  “Thirty days, Zora…they kept me isolated with no one to speak to for thirty days,” I said, unable to keep my voice a whisper now.

  Zora looked at me guiltily but did not immediately reply. “I’m sorry, Gwen, but there has been quite a bit happening since we got back.”

  “I don’t understand. What’s happened? I’ve heard nothing. No one has told me anything,” I said.

  Before Zora could answer, the little bell next to the metal doors began to ring. It was time for us to enter Belial’s chamber and stand before the High Serpent King. Zora turned to me nearly in a panic. “You mustn’t question Belial, Gwen. Things will be bad enough already.”

  I still had no idea what Zora was talking about. Was it so terrible that I was taken prisoner by Ezekiah’s men when all others had died before me? The steward appeared and opened the doors, ushering us through. My escorts remained in the vestibule as the doors closed behind us.

  The chamber was dark, as it had been before, except for the hundreds of drippy candles. Zora and I walked the length of the corridor leading to the balcony where I remembered standing before the dragon. I could already feel tremors coursing through the air in the chamber from Belial’s breathing. He was already visible when we reached the balustrade and kneeled before him.

  “Gwen,” Belial began. I noticed that he did not use my title this time. That couldn’t be a good sign. “Why have you failed me?” The dragon’s voice seemed to be everywhere at once.

  “My lord, I beg your forgiveness,” I said. “I was shot while trying to kill the prophet. My ability to reach into the Gifts of Transcendence failed me just before I could reach him. I have no explanation for what happened.”

  As I admitted this fact to Belial it suddenly occurred to me how that sounded. Only when I had been about to kill Elithias’ prophet had my special powers failed. In that moment of clarity I realized that Ezekiah’s god must have done it to protect him. No wonder all of the other wraith dancers had been killed in their attempts. They had probably experienced the same thing I had. I realized that this was the kind of god-like power I had seen missing in the dragons, even in Belial.

  Belial’s growl rumbled throughout the chamber.

  “My lord,” Zora spoke up. “Gwen has not been told what’s happening throughout the cities.”

  “What has happened?” I asked Zora again.

  “What you are not aware of, Gwen,” Belial thundered, “is the growing rumor of the wraith dancer whom Ezekiah apparently raised from the dead!”

  “What?”

  “Do not play coy with me, human!” Belial said. “Because of your failure the prophet’s followers have infiltrated our patron cities throughout the kingdom spreading this heresy! They say that only Elithias can raise someone from the dead. That he is truly God, while they question our reign!”

  The entire chamber quaked with his fury.

  “I did not know!” I said, now fearing for my life and Zora’s.

  “Because of you the people desire to see the wraith dancer who was resurrected. They want to confirm the miracle!”

  We cowered before Belial’s rage as he loosed gouts of flame that mushroomed against the chamber’s stone ceiling. He subsided as we waited to be destroyed.

  I dared to speak then. A revelation had come to me in that moment of terror. “My lord, perhaps if you were to raise one of the people, recently deceased, back to life this would assuage the doubts these stories have caused.”

  Belial became very still for a long moment. I wasn’t sure if he was considering it or not. Zora looked up at me. This idea seemed to be a good one from the smile on her face. It was a logical solution.

  But I didn’t believe that Belial had that power anymore. I had suggested it as a test rather than through any real faith. Zora didn’t know that though and she remained hopeful. Belial, on the other hand, did not seem so pleased. Deep within his massive body a growl started to rumble.

  I was surprised when he avoided my suggestion altogether and laughed. “You no longer believe, do you, Gwen?”

  Zora was caught totally off guard by the question. Her bewildered expression told me that she had no idea what he was talking about, but I knew. He had figured out what I was just realizing myself. I did not believe that he was a god anymore.

  However, I did realize that I was still trapped inside with a very dangerous dragon. I stood and began to cautiously back away, beckoning Zora to follow. She only looked at me. “Gwen, what are you doing?”

  That question and the disappointment I saw in her e
yes were my last memory of Zora. Belial’s head sprang forward, his jaws snapping shut around Zora and the stone balcony she had been kneeling upon. The entire balcony shattered under his terrible attack.

  I was partly down the corridor already and out of his reach, but I knew what would be coming next. As Belial slung the contents of his mouth aside and prepared to breathe fire, I ran toward him calling upon the gifts for as much speed as I could. His massive jaws opened before me like a cave. I could see the flame welling up within.

  At the last possible moment, I leaped to the side where the shattered balcony would have begun to widen. I pulled two daggers from my robes as orange flame shot down the corridor toward the metal doors leading to the vestibule beyond. I landed on Belial’s left foreleg and gouged my daggers in instinctively.

  The dragon had not even noticed. He pulled his face back from the corridor before the flame swept back over his face. He hadn’t seen me escape yet. I reached into the gifts for all the skills I could draw into myself at one time, and then leaped off of his foreleg to the crumbling back edge of the balcony. When his left eye opened I found my target and threw one of my daggers.

  The weapon spun away and slammed into the dragon’s huge cornea. Belial roared out his fury as he lurched away. I had nowhere to go. The chamber floor was too far to jump, and I would only trap myself down there. I looked back down the corridor and found that Belial’s fire had melted the metal doors, leaving a gaping scorched hole where they had been.

  I ran as hard as I could down the smoldering stone corridor, through the melted doors out into the vestibule. Three bodies lay charred on the marble floor; no doubt the steward and my two escorts. I ran past them finding the hallway that would lead me back toward the main palace. More flame blew into the vestibule behind me. I felt the heat but remained unharmed, my feet slapping the marble floor as I tried to put as much distance between myself and the dragon as I could. As I started into the corridors of the palace proper, I could still hear Belial’s rage as he pounded the walls of his chamber.