Suddenly, Cole was alarmed. His mind raced through the myriad possibilities that could have forced Gerard to stop lowering it: injury, not enough rope, a tangle, or another creature might have been lurking up there. He was just about to panic, when the egg lurched down a few feet, causing his heart to jump up into his throat. As he tripped through possible spells that might help the situation, the egg started gliding down slowly and smoothly, as if it had never stopped.
Cole cursed his stupidity, not only for letting his brain run rampant with foolish fears, but for not telling Gerard that he could have dropped the egg once it was this far down. Cole had a number of spells that would slow its fall. He could even make it to drop right into his boat, or slowly levitate it down to the water so he could scoop it up on his way back to the island. He shook his bald head while he waited for the lowering egg. So much for perfect planning.
Gerard had never in all of his life felt as relieved as he did the moment the rope in his hands went slack. The brief reprieve he gained by looping the rope around one wrist for a short while, and then the other to rest his arms, had been probably the smartest thing he could have done. As it was, he would have to rest his upper body, and let the circulation begin flowing again in his legs, before he could start his climb back down. Even though there was a voice in the back of his head screaming that he was out of time, there was no choice in the matter. He wanted to start his descent, but he knew that his body wasn’t ready yet.
He ate the dried snake-meat he had packed, and sipped from the remaining water skin, all the while listening to his panicky subconscious warnings. The dragon is coming back to roast you for your thievery! If you don’t leave now, the beast will catch you on the rock face, and char you to a crisp!
After he finished the meat, he shouldered the pack and headed back across the cavern. The food seemed to have energized him, and he stopped at the lair to consider an idea. As he stood there, looking at the rune marked floor, and the unnatural smoothness of it, the words of the old crone came to him in his mind.
“You will find the power you seek in the depths of the dragon spire,” she had said – or something to that effect. He found himself looking around for a tunnel, or hidden stairway that let down into the formation, but there was nothing to see. He laughed at his foolishness, and began stretching his back and arms. He squatted, and pushed himself back up with his legs a few times, while holding his arms straight out before him as he did so.
He was feeling much better now. He was glad that the first half of his descent was so easy to make. He really wouldn’t need his arms, until the lower part of the rock face, where it became almost a sheer drop. He was confident again, now that his body had recuperated, that he could make the journey down without faltering. He was feeling so confident, in fact, that he decided to act on the idea he had just had.
He would bring down another egg in his pack. The eggs were heavy, but not any more so than the coils of rope he had carried up with him. He became excited. Oh, how Shaella would be pleased with him when he gave her the second egg. He could only imagine how this night would be spent. She would be doubly happy, and he would get doubly rewarded.
He wasted no time getting the pack open as he gained the nest. It took some effort to squeeze the egg into the pack because its girth was as wide as the pack’s opening. The egg was so big, that part of it stuck up out of the pack, but that was alright.
HURRY! The voice in his head screamed at him. The dragon’s coming back any moment now! That was all right too, Gerard told the voice. I’ve got it, I’m done, I am out of here! With a triumphant smile on his face, he shouldered the pack and turned to go.
He was thinking how easy this had been, and how light the pack felt on his shoulders, when a figure shimmered into being directly in front of him. For a fleeting moment, he thought that it was Cole, but the evil grin on the pale, bald-headed man’s face told him he was mistaken. It was the ghastly, white-skinned older man from the vision he had seen back in the old fortune teller’s tent.
In the wizard Pael’s left hand was a gnarled, old wooden staff with a head-sized crystal mounted at its crown. On his face was the most confident of snarls, and in his eyes there was something far more certain than death.
Gerard was so utterly stunned by Pael’s appearance, that he didn’t even feel the dagger the creepy wizard had thrust into his chest, until Pael twisted it, and laughed at him with manic glee.
Chapter 29
The dragon was fierce and quick, but it seemed to enjoy playing the cat to Shaella’s mouse. It gleefully toyed with the brave little girl, who wielded the insignificantly magical sword, and more than a few times intentionally kept from killing her out of sheer curiosity.