Chapter 39C

  In the lightless hall of the Black Bank of Ten Thousand Hells, Great Lord Jean Castreier stood on a vast expanse of ebony marble holding a torch, a single point of light in an ocean of shadow. Behind him, through a wall of glass, loomed the distant flat-topped mountain volcano, Infernal Dagger. The bubbling lava pouring out of its broken peak cast a red glow onto the hall but did not light the chamber enough for Castreier to see beyond the torchlight.

  In the darkness, the voice of his master rippled through the hall, smooth and oppressive.

  “Tell me again. The whispers of humans are so small and sharp. I am afraid I did not understand.”

  Castreier, who had been speaking as loudly as he could without shouting, cleared his throat and swallowed. “Yes, Almighty Drakko, Prince of Fire. A human going by the name Dalex of the Expedition Seven has occupied the Gaia Eta city of Batulan-bar.”

  “OOOHH,” Drakko rumbled, and Castreier went cold inside, his heart forgetting to beat. “Then I did understand. You lost a city, one of my most profitable trading hubs, to a mysterious servant of another of my kin. Was he alone?”

  “No, Almighty,” Castreier said, his voice hoarse as he tried to force the words out at a volume that would not displease his master. “He was assisted by local elf dissidents, and we know he was in contact with beastkin from the Batulan-bar hunters’ lodge.”

  A great mass shifted in the darkness. Castreier felt the air change. Red eyes opened high above him, staring down at him with curiosity. “You are trembling, my darling. Fear not. I am not displeased that you would lie to me.”

  “L— lie, Almighty?”

  “I know the dissidents you speak of. Captain Gantulga mentioned them in his report.”

  Castreier held back a moan. He didn’t think Drakko looked at the written reports from the beastkin soldiers in the Wolf Brigade. They were beneath the dragon.

  “These elves and beastkin are powerless dreamers,” Drakko chided him. “I… respect that you attempted to magnify their role in the hope that I might not recognize how utterly you have failed me, but it has been recognized. No, I am not unhappy that you lied. I am only disappointed to discover you are not as competent as I hoped you were.”

  Castreier went to one knee and bowed his head. “I apologize, Almighty. I am still ferreting out what role the dissidents played in the takeover.”

  “I did not choose you to be a ferret. It is simple, my darling. You were defeated by a single man.”

  “If I only had more believers, Almighty,” Castreier said, “or more powerful servants. I would have squashed this Dalex like a bug.”

  “You think yourself larger than you are, little one. It is cute, but it grows tiring. If you were capable of defeating this Dalex of the Expedition Seven, you would have done so with the tools I gave you. You would have been prepared for any contingency. You would have outsmarted what appears to be a straightforward foe.”

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  That was easy for him to say. Yes, Castreier had been surprised during the execution in Telman, but he had taken every precaution in hunting Dalex down and ambushing the brat. Castreier had even gone so far as to call in the only favor he had with the Hero Arnaut.

  But Dalex was simply invulnerable. How many times had the Brigade’s soldiers struck the man without any sign of injury? Castreier’s trap had sprung, and it had not worked. He could not think of any other strategy or tactic he might have employed to be successful.

  A low growl thundered the hall like the initial shock of an earthquake. Castreier’s entire body shook, and he dropped the torch. It rolled away and guttered on the smooth marble, leaving him in crimson darkness.

  “I sense your indignation,” Drakko spoke. “You believe I am being unfair to you. You believe you did all you could, which is a conviction that displeases me far more than any lie or failure. If there is nothing more you could have done, what more use are you to me?”

  The temperature of the hall began to rise. A new red glow emanated from the edges of the chamber, smoldering coals burning to hot embers. Sweat broke out on Castreier’s forehead. The collar of his doublet nearly choked him.

  “There is more,” Castreier said reflexively, sensing what came next. “There is more to me. I underestimated this boy, but I won’t again.”

  The temperature held steady. With the combined light of the guttering torch, the lava-spewing volcano, and the new embers appearing in the chamber, Drakko’s massive body was finally outlined against the dark. He rested atop an enormous rock, nearly a mountain unto itself. His long tail curled around the rock all the way down to the chamber floor. From this perch he studied Castreier patiently, his neck bent so he could get a closer look at the human.

  Drakko would wait all day to hear what new plan Castreier thought was so worthy to be shared. A dragon’s patience was endless, until it was not. If he did not like what Castreier had to say next, he would not wait for more.

  Castreier’s mind raced, looking for a solution. How could he defeat Dalex with only the power he already possessed?

  And then he remembered the most recent report about Dalex’s activities, sent to him via messenger pigeon from one of the human lords still in Batulan-bar.

  “I will besiege the city,” Castreier announced.

  “Oh?”

  “A man in Batulan-bar that I trust has informed me of developments within the city. Dalex of the Expedition Seven has visited every human lord and disrupted their business. Most importantly, he has freed every elven slave in the city and shut down the Office of Elven Labor. It is clear that elven lives are important to him, and that he wants to stay in the city.”

  Castreier stopped to catch a breath. Drakko waited a moment and then said, “Go on.”

  “It is true, I cannot confront him directly. But if we quarantine the city which is so important to him, its inhabitants, including the elves, will starve. Eventually, when the time is right, I will attack again, and the desperate people of the city will deliver him to us themselves. If I target the city itself and not the man, I can defeat him.”

  Drakko was quiet for several minutes. The embers at the edges of the chamber did not die down. Castreier sweat through every item of clothing he was wearing.

  “An interesting, if not speedy proposal,” Drakko finally rumbled. “But I am patient. You may attempt this gambit. However, I do not agree to your plan because I believe it is foolproof. I still see a high likelihood that you will fail me again.”

  “Then why, Almighty, do you agree to it?” Castreier asked.

  “Because you finally called this Dalex a man instead of a boy. You may yet take him seriously. I congratulate you on your growth.”

  Drakko did love seeing his toys grow.

  “Thank you, Almighty.”

  “I will give you what resources you need, so long as you do not request more words of power or additional publication of your current lexicon. Prove to me that you can defeat this man as you are, my darling, and I will reward you.”

  “Thank you, Almighty,” Castreier said again.

  “Now go,” Drakko boomed, “and return to me my prized Batulan-bar.”

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