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The Phoenix Ring(59)

By:Alexander Brockman


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.