Birth of a Mortal God (33 page)

She instinctively took a step back. “Are they still alive?”

“In a manner of speaking,” he answered before putting his hand against the left door and pushing it open.

She watched as the two-foot-thick door effortlessly swung aside. “What type of metal is that?”

“Creperium, the most durable material in existence.”

“As well as incredibly light, apparently,” she noted.

“No, not particularly.”

“Then how did you just push aside a door that would have normally required several oxen to move?” she asked as she inspected the scrawny reptilian.

“Oh, that? That’s due to master craftsmanship,” he answered before stepping inside.

Jessica followed him into a large corridor. Hundreds of sconces containing small spheres of light adorned the walls, revealing that every square inch of the walls possessed mysterious runic engraving. “Lathrion used the dead to do all of this?” she asked in disbelief.

“Not at all. Reanimations can be used for various manual labour tasks, but nothing this delicate. The carvings in the mountainside, these runes, and the creperium doors are all the work of dorguns. They were among the many peoples who served my master before his imprisonment,” said Igneel almost proudly.

“I thought you said that this place is a prison? Why would these dorguns decorate it so lavishly?” she asked dubiously.

“This isle was not always so. It once served as my master’s home long before it became Sa’leeon. It is due to betrayal that it has become thus,” he said bitterly.

“What do you mean?”

He almost spat the words. “Those who thought themselves above my master’s rule would have been eradicated if his kin had not betrayed him and interfered.”

Jessica felt droplets of sweat running down her back and could almost hear Talvirnia’s warning in her mind. They passed several skeletons doing menial household chores, and she found herself suppressing a smile at the almost comic effect it had. She wondered absently how many of these undead minions it took to maintain the vast series of corridors.

They finally stopped in front of what appeared to be a dead end, despite having past by several doorways. Igneel placed his palms lightly upon the smooth rock and closed his eyes. He mouthed a few words in a foreign tongue, and then stepped away. Suddenly the wall became transparent like glass and split into blocks the size of a man’s fist. They started moving by themselves and quickly rearranged to make a hole large enough for them to pass through, before retaking the appearance of solid rock, leaving behind a gateway into the chamber.

“That was amazing! How did you do that?” she asked as she inspected the wall closely.

“I merely asked it to let us pass. It is an entramarch.”

“A demon door? I thought they were only a myth.”

He shook his head. “No, their kind just keeps hidden due to the temples’ mistaken belief that they are demons. Only a few still live; this one came here seeking sanctuary. They make excellent guards as they do not eat, drink or, sleep. My master granted its request on the condition that it guards the entrance to his chamber.”

“To keep anyone from getting inside?” she asked confused.

“To keep anyone from getting out,” he answered with a toothy grin before walking through the hole.

She followed and the hole closed so fast behind her that it almost nipped a piece of her hair. They continued on until the corridor widened after a turn. Suddenly, she found herself questioning her decision to come here.

The chamber was a grand sight to behold. It was the size of a city’s market square, however, instead of merchant stalls, it held mountains of gold, jewels, and various other valuable artefacts. At the centre of it all slept its master. Jet-black scales, varying from the size of a man’s fist to the size of a heavy shield, covered his enormous form. A large grey scar ran from above his right eye, across his back, to his hind right leg. Whatever had made the scar had cleanly severed his right wing, as well, as there was not so much as a stump.

Although Lathrion was many times smaller than Shi-narok, Jessica found his quenru to be much more imposing as she struggled to breathe under the immense pressure.

Igneel approached his master seemingly unaffected. “Master, there is a woman here who seeks an audience.”

Black eyelids slid back, exposing crystal blue eyes. The gigantic orbs shot to her, and his words dripped with hatred. “Where is he?! Where is that
laqueer
?!”

She stumbled backwards at the sudden outburst, while a small part of her wondered if all magical beasts were secretly language scholars. “Laqueer? I don’t know who it is you seek, but my name is Jessica.”

“Don’t test me, human! Tell me where he is!” he roared, exposing teeth the size of swords.

She fought the urge to flee and replied in as calm a voice as she could manage, “If you are referring to Killmar, he is no longer in the mortal realm. He sacrificed himself to close a gate that had been opened to the Ninth Hell.”

“Good, then I can devour you without fear of retaliation,” replied the large creature as he ambled towards her.

“Killmar said you are to protect and take care of me,” she said in a quivering voice.

He smiled. “Oh, do not fear. You will be very safe within my stomach.”

She stood rooted in terror and as massive jaws started closing in around her, she shrieked, “I am here to claim the boon you owe Killmar!”

Lathrion stopped and sighed. “This is what I get for being theatrical. I should have just killed you before you even had a chance to utter a word.”

Jessica blinked like an owl suddenly caught in lantern-light as he returned to lying amongst his gold. “So . . . you are not going to eat me?”

He crossed his forelegs in front of him and laid his head on top. “Even I have certain principles that I won’t break. If that laqueer wants to squander the life boon I owe him for such a foolish task . . .” he shrugged. “Besides, you humans have fleeting lifespans, much like insects. Once you have died of old age, I will have repaid him in full.”

She found it strange how he could want to devour her with intense hatred one moment, and casually speak with her the next. “How did you immediately know it was Killmar who sent me?”

Lathrion snorted, sending a warm breeze through her hair. “The child within you reeks of his quenru. But why he would mate with one of your kind is beyond me.”

She lowered her hands to her belly. “I take it you don’t like humans?”

He seemed genuinely surprised by the question. “Why not at all. There are very few creatures who can match humans in taste.”

“I . . . see.”

He turned to the reptilian who had been silently observing the entire exchange. “Igneel, prepare some quarters for our guest. Also find a suitable location where she could give birth and educate yourself into a good midwife.”

“As you wish,” he answered with a bow.

“Birth? I am not even showing yet, it will be months before I’ll give birth,” interjected Jessica.

Lathrion grinned. “How naïve. You truly have no concept of what is growing within you, do you?”

“Come now, let us leave my master in peace,” said Igneel as he hustled her out of the chamber.

“That child could prove to be very useful,” said Lathrion to himself before returning to his slumber.

Jessica stared at
the sky, her hands resting on her prominent belly. Lathrion had been right, although not as quickly as he had predicted, her child had grown amazingly fast. Three months had passed since her arrival, and she was now expected to give birth before the end of the day. As always, the sky inside the field was colourless. It was as if one stared into clear water with no bottom; though sometimes, it would have a lighter or darker tinge to it. Luckily, gazing at the field from within didn’t have the same repercussion as when done from the outside.

Igneel pulled aside the black metallic door and saw her sitting out on the ledge, her feet dangling off the mountainside. “Jessica, you promised me that you would no longer be this reckless. You need to be mindful of your condition.”

She smiled. She had come to like the meticulous khaanmoloch. He had taken care of her as tenderly as one could expect from a loving family member, and they would often spend hours just talking about everyday drivel. “You worry too much.”

“So you keep reminding me,” he said as he sat down next to her.

“Has he asked for me yet?”

“No, my master trusts my capabilities,” he said absently.

“That’s not what I meant and you know it,” she said crossly.

Lathrion had only seen her twice since her arrival, both times, he only made enquires as to the well-being of her child before dismissing her.

Igneel helped her to her feet. “Come. It would be very bothersome and dangerous if you were to go into labour here.”

She knew he was intentionally changing the subject and played along. “Are all khaanmolochs such nagging old women?”

He smiled. “Only those who have been tasked to play the part of midwife.”

A litter carried by eight skeletons rushed over, and he helped her inside. She had gotten used to the undead servants, but still didn’t like them and avoided them whenever possible.

“Igneel, why is Lathrion so interested in my child?” she asked as the litter set off to a gentle trot.

He shrugged. “Perhaps because he is Killmar’s child, as well.”

“Yes, I am sure that plays a part. I don’t know, it just feels like he is planning something,” she insisted.

“I do not know if my master has any plans for the child, but I doubt he would harm it.”

“Why do you say that?”

“The child is more useful to him alive than dead,” he stated plainly.

“He really does seem to despise Killmar. Why is that?

Igneel sighed. “Your curiosity is insatiable. I—”

“Can’t tell me anything about your master. I know, I know,” she interrupted.

“If you know, then why do you persist in questioning me?”

“Because one day, you will let something slip,” she answered with a wink.

He shook his head and helped her into the room he had prepared for her childbirth. It even had all the necessary furnishings and tools, should there be any complications.

She stumbled slightly on her way to the bed, and he quickly supported her the rest of the way. “You have been getting weaker over the course of your stay. Have you been eating the meals sent to your quarters?” he asked worried.

She nodded. “I am fine. I just need to rest a little bit.”

“Send one of them if you need anything,” he said indicating the undead servants who stood like statues against the wall.

She indicated she would, and he hurried from the room.

Igneel entered his
master’s chamber with three cows and a score of skeletons in tow.

Lathrion looked up. “You are late.”

“My apologies, master. I was escorting Jessica to bed.”

“How is her condition?”

“Just as you predicted, master. She is very weak. I doubt she will survive childbirth.”

“Well, if she dies, she dies. It will be out of no fault of ours. Move my dinner a bit further away. I don’t want their blood staining my hoard,” he said as he rose and stretched.

Igneel bid the skeletons to do as their master commanded. “As you wish, master.”

Lathrion ambled over to where the terrified cattle fought against their restraints. “Release one of them. I am in the mood for a little sport.”

They did, and he gave the animal a few seconds to run before pursuing it. Despite the animal’s crazed dash for the exit, he reached it in a few strides and bit it in half. Even though he was one of the few dragons capable of swallowing such a large animal whole, he never did, as it always gave him indigestion. He preferred to savour his meals rather than gulping them down like a serpent.

Igneel watched in awe as the skeletons released the second cow. Lathrion nimbly pounced on the animal, pinning it to the ground without the use of his claws, as they would quarter it by accident.

A skeleton rushed into the chamber, and Igneel recognised it as one of those he had left with Jessica. It indicated frantically for him to hurry.

“Master, I think Jessica has gone into labour. I’ll be back later to give my report,” he said before darting out of the chamber.

“What odd timing,” said Lathrion, before feasting on the squirming animal beneath his foot.

Jessica howled out
in pain before weakly falling back. “What is it?”

“It’s a boy,” said Igneel as he quickly wrapped the silent newborn in a black blanket.

“Hand him to me, quickly,” she said, as she felt her strength draining away.

“Of course,” he said before carefully handing her the black bundle.

Jessica smiled as her boy’s bright golden eyes looked into her own. “Oh, you are so beautiful. I will name you Raeon, for the family I lost and the one I hope you will someday have.”

Raeon grinned, exposing two rows of fully developed teeth, before wiggling his arms free of the blanket and hugging her.

Tears ran down her cheeks as she barely managed the strength to kiss her son. “You are going to be so special. Don’t let anyone ever use . . . you.”

“Jessica?” asked Igneel as her limp hands fell onto the bed.

Raeon angrily slapped away his hand when he attempted to take him away. They stared at each other silently for a moment, before he sighed. “Very well. I’ll see what I can do.”

Darkness consumed all
her senses, but one thing demanded her attention. The dark purple birthmark in the crease of her right leg. Never in her life had she been so aware of a singular thing about herself. Then she heard a cold but calm voice, “This is she, correct?”

“Yes,” answered another, and although the voice sounded different, she recognised it.

“Why am I doing this again?” asked the first voice.

“Because I am asking you to,” replied the second voice in a tone that would have made her smile if she still had any sensation other than that of the birthmark left.

“Can I at least choose what she looks like?”

“No.”

The first voice sighed dramatically. “Then let us get this over with.”