Rage of a Demon King (Serpentwar Book 3)

 

‘. . . but for whatever cause, Order and Chaos have no more meaning. Mythar let loose the strands of power and from them the new gods arise,’ said Draken-Korin. Ashen-Shugar studied the one who was his brother-son, and saw something in his eyes, something that he now realized was madness. ‘Without Rathar to knit the strands of power together, these beings will seize the power and establish an order. It is an order we must oppose. These gods are knowing, are aware, and are challenging us.’

 

‘When one appears, kill it,’ answered Ashen-Shugar, unconcerned by Draken-Korin’s words.

 

Draken-Korin turned to face his brother-father, and said, ‘They are our match in power. For the moment they struggle among themselves, seeking each dominion over the others as they strive to gain mastery of that power left by the Two Blind Gods of the Beginning. But that struggle will end, and then shall our existence be threatened. They will turn their might upon us.’

 

Ashen-Shugar said, ‘What cause for concern? We fight as we have before. That is the answer.’

 

‘No, there needs be more. We might fight them in harmony, not each alone, lest they overwhelm us.’

 

Ashen-Shugar said, ‘Do what you will. I will have none of it.’ He mounted Shuruga and flew home.

 

 

 

 

 

Tomas said, ‘I never dreamed.’

 

‘What?’ asked Pug.

 

Looking at Miranda, Tomas said, ‘Your father knew! He wasn’t just creating a weapon to balk the Tsurani conquest or even to stem the return of the Dragon Host to Midkemia, he was preparing us for this fight!’

 

‘Explain, please,’ said Nakor.

 

‘Something changed Draken-Korin,’ said Tomas. ‘He was mad by the standards of his own race. He had these strange notions and odd compulsions. He was the driving force behind the creation of the Iifestone. He masterminded the race’s vesting their powers in that crystal.’

 

‘No,’ said Calis quietly. ‘He was a tool. Something else was the mastermind.’

 

‘Who?’

 

‘Not who,’ said Nakor. ‘What?’

 

All eyes turned toward the strange little man. ‘What do you mean?’ asked Pug.

 

Nakor said, ‘In each of you, something is locked away.’ He moved his hand in an arc, and a golden nimbus of light sprang up, washing the room. Pug’s eyes widened, for while he knew that Nakor had far more power than he ever admitted to, this shell of protection was something beyond Pug’s experience. He recognized it for what it was, but had no idea how the little man could so effortlessly create it.

 

Miranda asked, ‘Who are you?’

 

Nakor grinned. ‘Just a man, as I have said many times.’

 

‘But you are more,’ Dominic said flatly.

 

Nakor shrugged. ‘I am also a tool, in a sense.’ He looked at each of them in turn. ‘Several of you have heard me speak of my life, before, and all I told you is true. When I was a child, powers came to me and my father threw me out of the village for my pranks. I traveled and learned, and have been much as you see me now for most of my life.

 

‘I met a woman named Jorna, whom I thought I loved - young men often think physical hunger is love - and in my vanity thought she loved me; we also can rationalize anything when it suits our purposes. Look at me!’ He smiled. ‘A young and beautiful woman falling under my charms?’ He shrugged. It doesn’t matter. What matters is that I was left a wiser, if sadder man.’ He looked at Miranda. ‘You know what came next. Your mother came looking for someone who could teach her more than I, for as I have always said, I am but a man who knows a few tricks.’

 

Miranda asked, ‘Why do I get the feeling you may be the only person on this planet who would use that description?’

 

‘Be that as it may,’ continued Nakor, ‘Jorna became Macros’s wife, and I became a traveler.’ He looked around the room. ‘My life changed one day when I slept in a burned-out shack on the side of the hills in Isalani. I had always had the ability to do tricks, little things, but that night I dreamed, and in my dream I was told to seek out something.’

 

‘What?’ asked Pug.

 

Nakor opened his ever-present carryall and reached deep inside. It was not the first time Pag had seen the little man stick his arm inside up to the shoulder, when, from the outside, the bag appeared to be only two feet deep. Pug knew there was something inside, like a tiny rift, that allowed Nakor to reach through the bag to a location where he had stored an astonishing assortment of items. ‘Ah!’ he said, pulling out an item. ‘I found this.’

 

Dominic’s eyes widened, while the others stared in curiosity. Nakor held a cylinder, perhaps eighteen inches long, four inches in diameter. It was a cold, greyish-white color. At each end of the cylinder was a knurled knob.

 

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