He struck at me, in his frustration. He pleaded with me, he begged me, he threatened to kill me if I did not remove the magical net I remained adamant. I could see, now, around the shores of the lake, the terrible carnage taking place.
The dragon’s head and neck, part of its upper body, and its dagger-sharp spiked tail reared up out of the molten lava. The head and neck were black, black as the darkness left behind in Kairn Telest. Its eyes glowed a ghastly, blazing red. In its great jaws it held the body of a struggling soldier and, as Edmund and I Watched in horror, it loosed its jaws and dropped the man into the magma.
One by one, the fire dragon took up each of the soldiers, who were attempting, with their pitiful weapons, to battle the creature. One by one, the dragon sent them plunging into the burning lake. It feft a single body on the shoreline — the body of the king. When the last soldier was gone, the dragon turned its blazing eyes on Edmund and me and stared at us for long, long moments.
I swear that I heard words, and Edmund told me later that he thought he did, too. You have paid the price of your passage. You may now cross.
The eyes closed, the black head slithered down beneath the magma and was gone.
Whether I actually heard the fire dragon’s voice or not, something inside me told me that all was safe, the dragon would not return. I removed the magical net. Edmund dashed out of the tunnel before I could stop him. I hurried after, keeping my eyes on the boiling, churning lake.
No sign of the dragon. The prince reached his father, gathered the old man’s body into his arms.
The king was dead, he had died horribly. A giant hole-inflicted, perhaps, by the sharp spike on a lashing tail—had penetrated his stomach, torn through his bowels. I helped Edmund carry his father’s corpse back to the tunnel. The people remained at the far end, refusing to venture anywhere near the lake.
I could not blame them. I wouldn’t have gone near it either, if I hadn’t heard that voice and known that it could be trusted. The dragon had taken its revenge, if that’s what it was, and now was at peace.
I foresee that Edmund will have a difficult time convincing the people that it is safe to walk the path on the shore of the Lake of Burning Rock. But I know in the end that he will succeed, for the people love him and trust him and now, whether he likes it or not, they will name him their king.
We need a king. Once we leave the shores of the lake behind, we will be in Kairn Necros. Edmund maintains we will find there a land of friends. I believe, to my sorrow, we will find there the land of our enemies.
And here is where I have decided to end my account. I have only a few pages of the precious parchment left, and it seems fitting to me to dose the journal here, with the death of one king of Kairn Telest and the crowning of a new one. I wish I could see ahead in time, see what the future holds for us, but not all the magical power of the ancients allowed them to look beyond the present moment.
Perhaps that is just as well. To know the future is to be forced to abandon hope. And hope is all that we have left.
Edmund will lead his people forth, but not, if I can persuade him, to Kairn Necros. Who knows? The next journal I keep may be called The Journey Through Death’s Gate.
—Baltazar, necromancer to the king
CHAPTER * 7
THE NEXUS INSPECTED HIS SHIP, WALKED THE LENGTH AND BREADTH OF the sleek, dragon-prowed vessel, studied masts and hull, wings and sails with a critical eye. The ship had survived three passages through Death’s Gate, sustaining only minor damage, mostly inflicted by the tytans, the terrifying giants of Pryan.
“What do you think, boy?” Haplo said, reaching down and fondling the ears of a black, nondescript dog, who padded silently along beside him. “Think it’s ready to go? Think we’re ready to go?” He tugged playfully at one of the silky ears. The dog’s plumy tail brushed from side to side, the intelligent eyes, that rarely left its master’s face, brightened.