Offspring (The Sword of the Dragon) (11 page)

Still holding onto the sword of the dragon, Ilfedo felt the slippery body under him losing energy as his blade leeched off its blood. The instant the monster pulled him under the waves, his head slapped against them as if striking a hammer. The cold Ilfedo could endure, but his head smacking the waves, he could not.

So hard was the blow that the world around him blurred and his conscious mind sank into blackness. He could feel the cold water filling his lungs, the saltiness of it covering his tongue.

Was he going to drown here in the sea with only his adversary privy to his death? Was this the end?

Ilfedo awoke with a green light glaring at him from high above. His chest felt heavy as he rolled onto his side to ease his aching back muscles from the rigidity of the flat stones on which he lay.

He might as well have had a sandbag weighing on his chest, and his body no longer glowed. Thus he deduced his armor was not on him. He could also feel that the sword was no longer in his hand. His fingers touched a moist and blubbery substance covering the right side of his chest.

Blinking to clear his vision, he focused on a tubule connected to his chest. Long and narrow, it compressed and expanded with the regularity of a heart beat.

His vision sharpened. He stood to his feet, or rather was pulled up by the tubule. Its end released its hold, popping off, sloshing liquids all over his chest. It retracted several feet over his head. He followed the movement and spotted a curious being towering above him.

It balanced on long, round legs that bent backward like a chicken’s rather than bending forward like a human’s. It slapped its frog feet on the circular stones and leaned over him. Its bulbous body was transparent and resembled a jellyfish’s hood. But the upper half of its body melded with the chest, arms, and head of a man.

Its angled ears tapered to sharp points. The muscles along its jawbone twitched, strengthening its handsome face. A green light shining from high overhead made its eyes glimmer like smooth pearls. Not a single hair graced its head.

Crossing its arms over its chest, the being bowed its bald head. Its eyes seemed to roll back into its head and the large, white shells that padded its shoulders swayed forward as the tubule retracted into the being’s side.

“
Sevat
,” it said through the gill slits covering its mouth. “
Sevat eb Crysallis
!” Spreading its arms wide, it clumsily spun, raising its pearl eyes to peer at the half-shell energy dome that held back the open sea surrounding it.

For the first time, Ilfedo took notice of the tableland on which he stood and the metal arch rising like a giant drafting compass from opposite sides of the circular floor of stones. The legs of the compass dropped over the edge of the round tableland, but from their junction a couple hundred feet above him, a green star burned blinding bright.

Shielding his eyes with his hand, he traced four arcs of green energy from the star to sheer cliffs rising into the darkness far above.

A sliver of light glowed in the darkness. It bent and stretched like a river into the distance. Turning, he watched the river of light as it vanished in the dark distance. It was as if a slice had been carved out of the sky. But it was a sky unfamiliar to him.

Ilfedo’s eyes alighted on the ruins of a city rising from the bed of the sea. The buildings looked like grain silos, some larger than others, some low and others exceedingly high. The green light touched the ruins with faint fingertips, illuminating the seaweed filling its deserted streets.

He blinked again to be sure he was seeing things the way they actually were. This place was under the sea … at the bottom of it. That river of light must be the light of day—far above him. Somehow he must have fallen through a rift in the ocean floor.

How impossible it seemed. The energy from the star formed an enormous bubble around the tableland. The ocean currents washed against it, and it shimmered, holding them back.

“
Trispal
sevat
?” the being spoke again. It let its arms swing at its sides.

“Sorry.” Ilfedo gazed into the creature’s pearl eyes. When it shuffled its flat feet and waggled its head at him, he breathed out deep. “I don’t think we speak the same language.”

Shuffling its feet, the being spread its arms wide.

Ilfedo stepped back, and his foot landed on metal. Looking down, he saw his sword. Flooded with relief, he picked it up. The living fire sprang from the blade, braided up his arms and covered his body, in a moment transforming him into a warrior garbed in armor of white light.

The being rising before him did not so much as twitch a muscle in response. It regarded him with its pearl eyes, arms still spread.

With his mind focused on finding a way back to the surface of the sea, Ilfedo hardly noticed that the edges of the tableland were filling with members of the tall being’s race. They were swimming through the depths, penetrating the green energy barrier, climbing onto the flat circle of stone rising from the midst of the city ruins.

They had him closed in on all sides.

“Stay back.”

“
Poonie
,” the first being said through its gills, gently gesturing at its companions and then crossing its arms over its chest.

Ilfedo lowered his sword and pointed cautiously at the being. “Poonie … is that what you call yourselves?”

The being shuffled forward, holding out its hand. “
Alartis
!”

Bowing, Ilfedo shook hands with the Poonie. Its pearl eyes dropped gold tears.

“I do hope those are tears of relief.” He released the Poonie’s hand and gazed around at the other beings standing in silence.

Spreading their arms wide and moving forward on their ungainly legs, their frog-like feet slapping against the stones, their bulbous bodies dripping sea water from their recent swim, the Poonie said in unison: “
Sebat eb Crysallis
!”

Sebat?
Was that their word for hello? He watched the congregation fix their pearl eyes on the green star hovering above the junction of the compass.

A hand touched his shoulder lightly. He jumped, spun around. But it was only the first Poonie, leaning over him.

It pointed at the city around the tableland, spread its arms wide. “Crysallis!”

“This city?” Ilfedo longed to break the language barrier and understand, but he thought he understood at least one thing. “Crysallis … it’s the name of this place … this city. Your city?”

But the pearl eyes revealed nothing. Gold tears fell from the Poonie’s eyes, filling the cracks between the stones on the tableland. Gazing around at the rest of the circular floor, Ilfedo caught his breath, seeing but hardly believing his eyes.

Gold tears flooded the cracks between the stones, falling from the pearl eyes of every Poonie present. The gold ran toward the center of the tableland, collecting around Ilfedo’s feet. He felt the tears raise him off of the floor. First his head leveled with the Poonie’s eyes, then he rose above them and faster and faster, higher and higher, gold tears surrounding him until he passed into the blinding brilliance of the green star.

The ocean fell upon him, roaring through a gap forming in the shield of energy that had kept it at bay. The sound of weeping filled his ears and he looked down to find the ocean crashing over the Poonie, whose gold tears continued to flow.

He pointed the blade given to him by the dragon, aiming for the ocean. Surely the powers in his sword could save these poor beings. But the star rose through the sea, carrying him with it, and he felt the surface of the Sea of Serpents break around him as he shot into the air, water pouring from his glowing armor.

Around him the green star vanished. Such was the force with which the star threw him that he almost flew through the air, over the water and toward the distant shore.

Before he splashed back into the water, he spotted the monstrous form of the Sea Serpent king, slicing through the waves, returning to land. His trajectory landed him with perfect balance on the creature’s massive head.

With all his might he drove the sword of the dragon into the serpent’s brain, spewing fire from the blade, cooking the creature from the inside out.

The serpent screamed a horrible sound that sent shockwaves through the water for a dozen yards around its head. It breached the water’s surface within a hundred feet of the shore. Ilfedo saw lines of people building rank upon rank on the dry ground.

Ombre was standing closest to the water, his sword drawn, his face taut. Beside him the five sisters drew their swords and charged into the waves, soaking their purple dresses. A sea breeze wrapped their hair around their heads, wild, free.

Struggling to its last breath, the enormous creature shook Ilfedo off of its head. Blue blood dyed the sea.

Ilfedo stood in the shallow water, aimed his blade for the Sea Serpent’s neck, and threw it like a spear. The weapon lodged in the targeted spot; the armor of light vanished from Ilfedo’s body as soon as the sword left his hand; the monster screamed again.

It spat venom at the sisters. They ducked the flying poison, came within arm’s reach of the creature’s body, and sank their blades through its scales.

Taking advantage of the creature’s divided attention, Ilfedo sloshed through the water. Grabbing hold of the hilt of his sword as it remained stuck in the serpent’s neck, he waited for the living fire to garb him. Drawing with all his strength and summoning the powers in the sword, he ripped the blade up the serpent’s gullet.

A shower of blue blood rained on him. The serpent’s scream was cut short. Its house-sized head bombed into the sea.

Ilfedo held up his blade, and the water stormed past him without so much as touching him. When the sea calmed, he walked ashore. The five sisters stood there, sober despite the victory.

When Ilfedo reached the sand and sheathed his sword, he heard a low rumble of voices and looked up at the crowds of smiling townspeople. They sent up cheers that shivered up his spine. At the sound, the sisters standing beside him turned to look at the crowd.

Joining in with the masses, Ombre first, then Honer and Ganning, raised their voices. Ombre lifted his fists into the air and shook them.

Suddenly the people grew quiet. Whispers raced through their midst. A chant began.

“Hail! Hail Ilfedo, master of all swordsmen! Hail! Hail the women who stand with him! Hail the Lord Warrior and his Warrioresses!“

When the chant ceased the people grew quiet. Then, one by one, with solemn, eager faces, the men knelt on one knee and bowed their heads toward him. The women fell to both knees, heads lowered.

The sky paled to orange, and the dead serpent king washed onto the shore.

Ilfedo cringed as the people bowed to him. Obeisance—he did not want it.

His discomfort changed to horror when, beside him, the five sisters—his Warrioresses—started to bow. And Ombre, with a broad smile, knelt. Honer and Ganning also fell to their knees.

“No, my sisters!” He pulled them to their feet. “Never, I vow, will the blood-kin of my Love kneel before me.”

Walking through the sand to his three childhood friends, he pulled them to their feet as well. “You will rise with me, my friends. Together we will build a great nation for our people. With you by my side, only with you by my side, can I do this. Do not kneel to me.”

“As you wish,” Honer and Ganning replied, standing.

Ombre rose too, dusted the sand from his pants. “Of course,
Lord
Ilfedo.” There was no sarcasm in his statement, only a playful congratulation.

Turning to the people, Ilfedo bid them rise. He surveyed the sea of faces, knowing that this was a turning point for the Hemmed Land. Things would never be the same.

He would embrace his new role and use his influence as best he knew how. With a heavy sigh, he prayed to God for guidance, praying also that he would not let this newfound power lift him in pride’s ugly hands.

He thought of his child and set his jaw firmly. The Hemmed Land must be made strong to protect Oganna. She was all he had left of Dantress. Her future was all that mattered to him now.

T
he storms of Ilfedo’s life had changed him. He felt different. As he marched through the streets of the various towns and settlements in the Hemmed Land, the people’s faces brightened and they bowed. The parents whispered to their children, and the elderly nodded to one another in wordless communication.