Son of the Dragon (The Netherworld Gate Book 3) Read online

  As before, the group of pilgrims waited for several minutes until a gong rang out sharply and then the priest reemerged.

  By this time, Talon was close enough to hear the priest speak.

  “I am afraid we have time only for one more,” the priest said as he descended the stairs. “The rest of you must wait until morning.” The priest selected an older, broad-shouldered man from the group and led him up the stairs. They disappeared into the temple and the group of pilgrims fanned out around the temple.

  Some of them removed their coats and cloaks, laying them on the ground along the base of the temple as makeshift beds. Others leaned against the temple and rested as they curled up against the stone.

  Talon made his way to a trio of pilgrims that were making a small fire. One of them pulled out three metal rods, a small pot, and a chain with two hooks. Talon watched as the pilgrim propped the three rods together and then hung the chain from the center. Next he hung the pot from the chain and centered the contraption over the fire.

  “Would you like some coffee, stranger?” one of them asked Talon.

  Talon moved closer to them and sat near their budding fire.

  “So, what are you here for?” one of the men asked him.

  “Same as you,” Talon lied.

  The pilgrim shook his head. “No, I mean, are you here to worship and pay homage, or are you here to seek a blessing?”

  Talon shrugged and looked at one of the other men, noting a long, jagged scar on the man’s face. “What are you here for? Are you all together?”

  The scarred man shook his head. “We joined up on the road a ways back, but we aren’t here for the same purpose.” The scarred man pointed to the pilgrim who had spoken first. “Jerax is here for worship. He says he comes here each year to honor his father’s birth.”

  Jerax nodded. “My father was a great warrior. I carry on his tradition.”

  The scarred man then pointed to the man who had built the contraption over the fire. “This is Hagrin.”

  “I seek strength,” Hagrin said. “I was injured in battle. I was discharged on account of my arm.” Hagrin lifted his left arm and stretched it out. The elbow remained bent at forty-five degrees and the arm stuck just below the shoulder. “I can’t lift it any more than that,” Hagrin said. “I was thrown from my horse, and the cursed animal then turned and trampled me, along with several other horses during a charge. I was a good knight once, but now I can’t even hold a shield in this hand.”

  “Basei will heal you,” Jerax said optimistically. “He will see your valor and reward you. A lesser man would simply go home and collect his pension.”

  Talon knew that Basei would not heal the man. Hagrin was going to die in that temple. That was the way of it. Those who came to worship and donate to the priests did so in the main hall, in full view of all pilgrims and priests. Any who sought special blessings, however, were taken into private prayer chambers. There they would meet their undeserved demise.

  As if validating Talon’s thoughts, the gong rang out again, loud and brassy.

  “Hear that?” Jerax asked as he pointed to the temple. “That big fella was seeking a blessing too. He just got it. Every time the gong rings, Basei bestows a blessing upon his faithful.”

  Talon hid his grimace and then turned to the scarred man. “What about you?”

  The scarred man let out a sigh and looked up to the looming structure. “Normally I come to worship. I am not as devout as Jerax here. I come maybe once every other year, sometimes once in three years. However, this time I am here for a blessing. It isn’t for me, mind you, but for my nephew. He just joined the army a few months back. Now that he has finished his training, they are going to send him to Zinferth. I guess they have had some trouble keeping the populace in Kobhir under control since it was sacked. Anyway, I am going to ask for protection for my nephew. Hopefully I have served Basei well enough to have that wish granted.”

  “Of course you have,” Jerax said emphatically. “Basei will see your courage.”

  “What of you?” the scarred man asked.

  Talon nearly missed the question. His mind was still digesting the news that Kobhir had been conquered by Shausmatian forces. “I’m sorry, what?” Talon asked.

  “What about you?” the scarred man repeated.

  “A blessing,” Talon said.

  The great doors to the temple creaked closed and boomed loudly over the desert.

  “Do you know what they were seeking?” Talon asked of the pilgrims taken in before the temple closed.

  “They were all here for blessings,” Jerax said. “It’s common for the priests to end the night with those seeking special blessings.”

  “And what happens now?” Talon asked as he gestured to the doors. “Will they sleep inside the temple?”

  Jerax laughed and shook his head. “No, no. There are special exits in the back of the temple. This must be your first time,” Jerax said. “Otherwise you would know that you always exit from the back. Whether you go in to worship or seek a blessing, there are three exits.”

  Talon nodded and offered a smile as if he was embarrassed by his ignorance, though in truth he knew about the exits. He was interested to know whether the others might notice that not everyone who entered the temple exited. “It is my first time here,” Talon said. “But I have been to smaller shrines before.”

  “Ah, a first time pilgrim!” Jerax exclaimed. “Well, then, I am glad you joined with us. I can tell you everything you want to know about the High Temple!”

  At that moment, a stranger appeared and announced his presence in an odd, nasal voice. “May I join you folks? I have traveled far, but it appears I am too late to worship tonight.”

  “Welcome, pilgrim, please share our fire,” Jerax said enthusiastically. “I was just about to explain all of the inner workings of the High Temple. I have been here every year, but this man,” he said as he pointed to Talon, “is a first timer.”

  “How fortunate,” the stranger said. “This is my first time to Basei’s High Temple as well.”

  “Two first timers!” Jerax squealed happily. “Most excellent!”

  Talon studied the stranger while Jerax began to babble on about the history of the temple. The stranger wore a cloak of green that shimmered like silk, but appeared to be made of something much tougher. His tunic was gray and the trousers were black. As he sat near the fire, Talon could see that his face was formed of gaunt, angular features accentuated by narrow eyes of light blue. Across his lap rested a spear. The stranger must have noticed Talon staring, for he turned his fierce eyes on Talon and smiled in a most unnerving way.

  The assassin almost felt as if those eyes were peering into his very soul. Then, the stranger looked back to the others and listened to Jerax intently. Talon wasn’t sure what to make of the stranger, but he didn’t feel as though he were in danger. So, he joined in the discussion also, feigning interest in Basei and the High Temple.

  Talon passed the hours with the others until one by one they all fell asleep.

  Only after he was sure all of the other pilgrims were lost in the dream world did he move from his place.

  Talon looked up, carefully casting a glance out to the dunes to the east. He couldn’t see his warriors, but he knew they were there, waiting for his signal.

  Talon made his way around the far side of the temple, knowing that the exit doors would be far easier to open without being noticed.

  As he rounded the rear of the temple and approached the closest exit, he pulled a lock pick set from his pocket and knelt at the door. Only, as he searched the door, he found no key hole. In fact, there wasn’t even a knob to use. The door was sealed from the inside, much like the larger doors at the front. Talon cursed his luck and then stepped back from the door and studied the wall. There were no columns on this side of the temple, as there were along the front and sides. There were, however, uneven stones used as decoration along the corner of the temple. The uneven stones jutted out in differen
t directions, and could possibly afford purchase for his hands and feet. Excited by his discovery, Talon followed the stones with his eyes and found a narrow window high above the ground. A faint glow played upon the smooth brick of the opening. There was no glass separating the interior from the desert. It was a perfect way in, except for the fact that it sat roughly six feet away from the corner. Talon might not be able to reach it without taking a very literal leap of faith.

  CHAPTER 16

  Seeing no other way to enter the temple except for the window, Talon ascended the corner of the temple. His hands easily grasped the jutting stones and his feet drove him upward. In a matter of seconds he had climbed thirty feet. Another five put him parallel to the window. He could hear muffled voices coming from within. The glowing light danced upon the bricks, telling Talon that there was some sort of large fire inside the temple. The smell of roasted meet came to his nostrils as the wind dragged across the window toward him.

  He brought his left foot a few inches higher, planting it firmly on a stone lip that stuck out enough for the front half of his foot. He then wrapped the fingers of his right hand around the corner and leaned out, stretching for the open window. His outstretched fingers groped and scraped along the wall, but they were several inches short of the window itself.

  He would have to jump.

  Talon looked down. He knew a fall from this height would likely result in injury. He pulled his arm back, inspecting the window opening as best he could from his vantage point. There was enough of a ledge that if he was able to make the jump, he should be able to grab hold of the window. Then he could slip into the temple.

  The assassin climbed up another foot so that his body was slightly higher than the window to afford him a larger margin of error, but not so much higher that the force of his fall would prevent him from gripping the window.

  He glanced up to the overhanging roof, making sure his jump wouldn’t send him bumping into it by accident. Then he looked to the window. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a single figure crouched along the ridge of a dune off to the east. It was Leflin. Even from a distance, Talon could identify the zealous clan leader. Leflin was watching his new king, likely assessing what kind of man they had pledged themselves to.

  Talon returned his focus to the window and then leapt out to the side. His hands moved out to grab the window and he tucked his legs up slightly. He came down, his hands landing softly on the inside of the window opening. His momentum pulled against his grip, and the smooth stone on the inside of the window provided little friction. His hands slipped. His left hand scraped and slid out of the window. His body began to fall, but he didn’t panic. He held on with his right hand, just managing to catch a grip as his arm was pulled to its full extent. Talon grunted and swung his left arm up, grabbing hold of the ledge and pulling himself up to peer in through the window.

  To his surprise, the window did not open directly into the temple. Instead, there was a chute of brick and stone that mimicked the window’s size, but curved downward. Talon assumed the construction was done to minimize dust and sand being blown into the temple, while still allowing for fresh air to circulate through the building.

  In any case, it presented a new problem. Talon was hanging from the outside of a window, but there was nothing on the inside to steady his descent. He would have to slide through the chute, and then drop to the floor below.

  What was he to do? He had no rope with him, because he had not expected the need to climb. His information had told him he could use the exit doors to gain entrance. Now his choices were either to drop from the window on the outside, for he could not swing back to the corner where he could climb, or he could risk falling through the chute and landing on the temple’s stone floor inside.

  He cursed his luck again.

  Then he heard a shuffling sound beneath him. He pushed back with his legs to peer down between his feet. He was astonished to see a score of his warriors led by Leflin there at the base of the temple.

  “Hold on, my king,” Leflin said.

  Quietly, the warriors formed a pyramid out of their bodies that stretched up to Talon. The Sierri’Tai warrior at the top held a rope in his hand. It was Leflin.

  “I swore not to hesitate the next time you were in danger, sire.”

  Talon slowly let himself down to stand on one warrior’s back as he took the rope from Leflin and shot the warrior an approving nod.

  Leflin didn’t wait to be told what to do. He tied one end around his own waist and then moved to the bottom of the pyramid where three others also took hold of the rope, providing sufficient anchor for Talon to descend the chute at his own pace without concern. Talon nodded at them and grabbed his end while the warriors at the bottom made sure to take up the rest of the slack.

  Talon slipped into the strange chute, holding the rope with his hands and using his feet to guide his descent as his warriors steadily lowered him. The chute went down four feet, and then it curved slightly back toward the wall and ended abruptly. The assassin was fortunate the others had come to his aid. He could see that the chute offered no access to anything Talon could use to climb down. Worse than that, a large priest stood near a column only a few feet away from where Talon would have surely landed had he taken his chances.

  By now, his feet dangled below the chute, and Talon held his breath as his warriors continued to let him down inch by inch, slowly and silently. This afforded him enough time to survey the inside of the temple.

  He spied a large fire in a great stone bowl in the center of the floor. Beyond that was a large wooden table with several platters of meat heaped on them. Talon figured they were likely pieces from animal sacrifices throughout the day. Now that their wicked work was done, the priests were making merry with the meat, and drinking themselves into a stupor with large red clay jugs of wine.

  Talon turned his attention to the man below him. He wore the same, sand colored robes as some of the priests, but he also held a spear in his right hand. He was some sort of temple guard, it seemed.

  The assassin waited until he was close enough that he could drop without making much noise. He let go of the rope and bent his knees upon landing, absorbing the shock of the drop and muffling the sound. The guard still turned, perhaps seeing the action out of the corner of his eye, but it was no matter. Talon was already upon him. One hand covered the guard’s mouth, and the other drove a dagger into the side of his neck.

  Talon spun around the column, dragging the dead guard with him. He searched the guard’s body and found a small iron key. He took it and made his way to the nearest exit door. He quickly traversed the narrow corridor that led from the main hall of the temple to the wooden door that would open to where his warriors stood waiting. He quietly lifted a thick wooden plank from before the door, then slipped the iron key into a key hole he found underneath it. He turned it slowly, tensing with each metallic click and glancing over his shoulder. Luckily, no one heard him opening the door.

  Talon smiled when he saw that Leflin had already called the rest of the warriors up from the dune. They all drew daggers upon seeing Talon open the door. He gave them a nod and then doubled back through the short hallway. The drow moved silently behind him, as quiet as shadows, but much deadlier.

  When they reached the main hall, Talon pointed to the left.

  In response, half of his warriors crept along the back wall to the left. Talon led the other half out along the right side of the temple. Two warriors took up places by each doorway they encountered. Talon wanted to make sure that when the fighting started, any who tried to come to the priests’ aid would be quickly dealt with.

  Then, when everyone was in place, Talon counted the priests at the table.

  There were eight priests feasting in the center of the hall.

  Talon turned to Leflin “Remember, wait for my signal. If the seraphim are alarmed before I can deal with them, then the battle will be much more difficult.

  Leflin nodded. “We will wait for your comman
d.”

  With that, Talon moved to the nearest door. He looked at the symbol over the door and verified that it led into a prayer room. Talon drew Drekk’hul out from its sheath and slipped into the room. His anger rose within him at the sight of Basei’s statue, but he kept his hate in check and slowly circled around the outer edge of the room. According to the notes and information he had found years before, the seraphim rested within a carved out space in the back of the statue inside each prayer room. They did their dastardly work during the day, and slept by night. As long as he was quiet, he should be able to surprise and overpower the seraph within this room.

  His feet padded softly as he moved along the wall. As he drew parallel to the statue, he regulated his breathing with extreme precision and control, barely drawing breath in so as not to make any sounds.

  He closed in around the back of the statue, ignoring the large, brass gong hanging in front of the back wall. A light was glowing from the hollowed out space in the statue. As Talon circled around, he saw wings of red flame encircling a large, human-like creature as it slept in a sitting position with its knees tucked up against its chest.

  As Talon watched the creature’s shoulders rise as it drew in a slow breath, he felt a piece of gravel roll underfoot. The stone made a soft clicking sound. Talon froze.

  The seraph’s eyes shot open and it turned its head to look at Talon.

  Talon pointed his sword at the creature and let loose with a lightning strike. The purple bolt snaked out, zigging and zagging through the air until it smashed into the seraph’s chest, crackling and shooting smaller tendrils of electricity all over the creature’s body.

  It howled in pain, but the blast did little more than slow the creature down. It shook off the attack and started toward Talon.

  Talon dove in, not wanting to let the creature call out for help or fully emerge from the hollow portion of the statue and have the luxury of mobility. A flaming wing swiped at him, but Talon dove under and drove in with his sword, piercing the seraph through the stomach and angling the blade up as he pushed it deeper into the creature.