The Phoenix Ring(33)

Aidan sat in silence for a few minutes, feeling sadness and anger swirl  in his stomach. He knew that amoghs had been mistreated in the past, but  he had never heard of anything like this.

"That's why you hate sorcerers so much, isn't it? And why you wanted so bad to free those slaves?"

Aaliyah nodded slowly. "When I saw you and Timothy in your robes …  all I  could think of was Ferrow. When they captured me, I thought it was  over." She turned her head to look into Aidan's eyes. "But then you came  back for me. You didn't leave me, like I expected you to. Even though  you stood no chance against them, you still risked your life for me.  Why?"

Why did I go back? Aidan thought, his mind struggling for a response. He  found that his thoughts were becoming sluggish as he looked into her  deep hazel eyes as they reflected the moonlight.

"I don't know," he said, mentally kicking himself before the words had even left his mouth.

Was that the best I could come up with?

Aaliyah smiled and stood. "I'm going to go set up camp. You coming,  cripple?" she asked, offering a hand. Aidan gratefully took it and  pulled himself to his feet.

"By the way," Aaliyah said, almost as an afterthought, "If you ever tell  anyone about this, I'll slit your throat." She released his hand and  then turned and walked to the campsite, leaving Aidan on the beach,  unsure of whether or not she was serious.





Aidan was sleeping in a hammock when he felt some sort of power coming  from his robe pocket. He snapped awake, his hand already grasping the  crystal that was his sole link with his master.

Aidan, are you there? The stone asked.

"I'm here, master," Aidan answered.

Have you begun to understand the ring at all?

"No," Aidan said, feeling slightly ashamed. He hadn't attempted to meditate since leaving Fort Phoenix.

I need you to try again. If you do manage to talk to Marcus, ask him how  to kill a Black Thunder. He has slain one before. And hurry! No matter  what, you must come to the isle as soon as possible!

"Master, what is a Black Thunder? Master?" But it was too late, Bartemus was no longer present at the other end of the crystal.

Aidan dragged himself out of his hammock and into the grass. He stumbled into the forest, hoping to not wake Aaliyah.

He found a nice little clearing, with a couple of birds just beginning to sing in the trees around it.

He sat down cross-legged, trying hard to focus on the ring, but to no  avail. It was still very early, the sun had just barely begun to release  the first rays of dawn into the night sky. The more he tried to stay  awake, the sleepier he became. Eventually, his head slumped forward, and  he slipped into unconsciousness, the ring at the forefront of his mind.

"Aidan? Aidan, wake up."

Aidan slowly opened his eyes.

"It's been a while. How is it in the outside world?"

Marcus Thunderheart was standing over him. He was laying in the middle  of the cozy room, just the perfect temperature. He had never before  noticed just how much like home it felt.

"Not good," Aidan said.

"Were you captured? Are you in a dragon's lair?" Marcus asked. Aidan  suddenly remembered he hadn't spoken to the hero since he had been  attacked at Fort Phoenix.                       
       
           



       

Aidan laughed. "No, it's not that bad," he said, standing up.

The mage quickly filled the warlock in on all that had happened.

"The funniest part is, I couldn't get into the ring until I fell asleep thinking about it. I don't know why."

Marcus chuckled. "It seems to me as if you are trying too hard. Instead  of trying to control your thoughts, let them go. Daydream, but steer  yourself towards magic. Eventually, letting yourself go will become  almost natural."

Aidan pondered his words, though he felt they made little sense.

"But I highly doubt that you entered the ring for no reason. What is it that you need?"

"I'm not quite sure," Aidan answered, "Bartemus wanted me to ask how to  kill a Black Thunder. I don't know what that is, though."

Marcus's face paled. "I slew the last one over fifty years ago. Are you sure that is what he asked?"

"I'm certain," Aidan said, "What is a Black Thunder?"

"It's a dragon," Marcus said, his tone grave.

"That doesn't sound so bad," Aidan said, "I was able to kill a dragon."

"You were able to kill a spineback," Marcus said, "Not a Black Thunder."

"How much worse can it be?" Aidan said.

"A spineback is larger than a Black Thunder, but size means little. A  Black Thunder is one of the strongest types of dragons, in its armor and  in its magic. The first Black Thunder was a crossbreed of the behemoth,  the largest and strongest of the dragons, and the moghrack, which is  smaller, but also the most magical of its kind. The Black Thunder was  the first success of many trials that carried all the best  characteristics from both breeds. Its armor and strength are nearly that  of a behemoth, and its magical capabilities, speed, and intelligence  are nearly that of a moghrack. They are the only creatures that have  ever been known to engage phoenixes in the wild.

They do have one weakness. There is a group of small scales where the  neck meets the head that are turned forwards, instead of running with  the rest of the dragon's scales. A direct hit to that area with a sword  or even a blast of magic does have the potential to maim or kill the  beast."

"Is that how you killed one?" Aidan asked.

"No," Marcus said, "I knocked it out of the sky with a blast of lightning."





Aidan sat up suddenly, the sun shining on his head.

What happened? he thought. One moment he had been speaking to Marcus,  and the next, he had been lurched out of his dream state and back into  reality.

The young mage stood and stumbled towards the camp, still a little  groggy. The sun was high in the sky, it had been at least an hour since  he had spoken to his master. The ring was no less a mystery to the boy  now than it had been before he entered its depths. No time at all had  passed the first time he had accessed its power, but now this world  seemed to be moving faster than the one inside the ring.

Aidan shook his head. For now, all that mattered was getting to the isle, with one griffin and one amogh.

"Sorry it took so long," Aidan said as he walked back into the camp, "I was just-"

His breath caught in his throat as he saw the wreckage that lay before him.

The griffin was still tied to its tree, though that meant little as the  creature had crossbow bolts protruding from its head. The packs were cut  open, their contents strewn over the dirt. The hammocks had been ripped  to shreds, and blood was splattered on one of them.

And to Aidan's horror, Aaliyah was nowhere to be seen.





16





Timothy's eyes snapped open. He was laying on his stomach, his arms at his sides, soft grass under his head.

Where am I? He thought.

He had been in the midst of the strangest dream when he had been awoken  by the sun. The memory of the events was a little fuzzy, but he knew  that Aidan had been a part of it, and a strange girl, and most  importantly, a small, green little creature …

"Ah, so you're awake," Grogg said.

Suddenly, Timothy's memory came rushing back in waves. The lying and  covering up, the rage, the attempt to murder Aaliyah, even watching the  goblin count out and eat twelve gold pieces while Aidan was sleeping.

Timothy tried to stand, but found that his hands and feet were tied in place.

"You devil!" he yelled, beginning to writhe as he tried to roll over. He  stopped when he felt a kick in his side, far too strong to be delivered  by a creature barely three feet tall.

"Quit moving, mage. I'm in the middle of a business deal. Now as I was  saying before I was so rudely interrupted, this is not the sorcerer our  leader wants. You delivered the wrong target."                       
       
           



       

"I am quite certain," Timothy heard the goblin say, "that this is the  more powerful of the two. He may not be wearing the ring, but his  ability is far superior. He was able to heal me in seconds, when the  other sat wringing his hands. I've been tortured and nearly killed for  this boy, now I demand payment plus another half of what we agreed."

Timothy slowly turned his head to the side until he saw it. A large  green emerald, the tip of a staff. He knew he didn't need to hold the  staff, just touch it with some part of his body.

"You're overestimating your importance to the master," Timothy heard the amogh growl as he edged closer to his staff.

"I don't fear you, amogh. A goblin sorcerer is worth three of your kind.  After we take the isle, goblins will rule this land, while your kind is  ground to dust."