Rise of the DarkWalker: The Chronicles of Carter Blake, Book II

Adora Orwen glared at her celestial guardian, Azrael. The angel stood before her, muscular arms crossed over his broad chest, wings folded against his back.

“Why shouldn’t I summon my husband?” Her voice lowered the temperature several degrees.

“It would not be safe.” His voice had the echoing quality that indicated he was speaking with celestial authority.

Alistair jogged up. “Your Majesty, you’re not supposed to run off wit—.” He spotted the angel, halted beside the queen and bowed. “Lord Azrael.” He straightened. “What’s going on?”

“He says I’m not supposed to summon Carter.” She looked the angel up and down. “You’re here under orders from Chokkan, aren’t you?”

The angel gave a single nod.

Adora rolled her eyes. “Of course.” She turned to her general. “We’re not going to get any real answers from him. Lord Chokkan teaches it is not for gods to give mortals all the answers.”

“Why is that, Adora?” The echoing voice persisted. “What would happen if we gave you all the answers to your questions?”

She paused. ‘What were my lessons on that? The instructors didn’t dwell on this part for very long.’ An image of a red haired knight at a slate board appeared in her memory. ‘Oh, yeah. Ser Keered.’ She smiled at the memory, and turned back to the angel who spoke with the voice of the chief deity. “We would stagnate due to not growing, learning, or experiencing life for ourselves.”

“Correct. While we may ‘interfere’ in the lives of mortals as your husband puts it, we only want what is best for our children.”

“How was telling me not to summon Carter not best for me?"

“You will learn why soon enough.”

Pure white light surrounded the angel and when it faded away, he’d vanished.

###

“Why do you think I’m the Walker of Worlds?” Carter crossed his arms across his chest.

The female dragon was engulfed by silvery flames and when they faded, a muscular, broad shouldered and bald woman stood before him. She had gray skin, mottled with dark and light patches and coin sized bone-and-skin growths speckling her arms, shoulders, and torso. Her eyes were a brilliant blue which seemed to glow under her jutting eyebrow ridge.

“I knew your grandfather, the previous Walker. You have aspects of his scent.”

Carter sat on a rock, close to Belinthrax. “Do you know what happened to him?”

“The last thing I heard of him, he and the new god, Chokkan, were going to honor the great warrior Kandel Orwen.”

“How could he have been here four thousand years ago?”

She shrugged. “I do not know. Maybe time moves differently on your world.”

“How do you know I’m not of this world?”

“Think about it, Carter.”

The Walker slapped himself on the forehead. “My grandfather. Duh.”

She nodded. “Chokkan summoned him to aid in his war with some of the other gods.”

Carter felt his jaw drop. “My grandfather was summoned to The Realm to help battle gods?

“Yes. That is part of the Walker’s duty, to help maintain the multiversal balance.”

“How do you know all this?”

“I knew your grandfather… very well.”

“Does that mean—?”

“Yes.”

Carter shuddered. “I shouldn’t have asked.” A mental image of his grandfather and this female dragon shot through his mind. “Ooh, shouldn’t have visualized. Ugh.”

She chuckled.

“Say, Belinthrax, are you able to shape shift, too?”

Silvery flames engulfed him, and the platinum dragon stood next to him. He now was about five and a half feet tall, and was slender. Pale-skinned and red-haired, he also had deep green eyes. He wore a simple robe with a thin silver chain around his neck.

“No.”

Carter guffawed. “Smart ass.” Icy air wafted over him once more, making him shiver. “What the hells? I was pretty comfortable a few moments ago, now I’m reminded I’m naked and on a mountain.”

“Apologies, Walker.” Belinthrax breathed out a gust of flames, heating the rocks near their eggs a glowing red. “We dragons generate a tremendous amount of body heat, so we do not feel the cold the same as you.”

Radiant heat wafted over Carter, warming him considerably. He moaned with pleasure. “While this is nice, do you have any spare clothes I could borrow?”

The female dragon passed him a small pile of folded clothing. “Try these on. They may fit.”

“Thank you.”

He unfolded simple cotton pants which he slid on and then held up the tunic. While the design was – to his uneducated eye – fancy, it was made from wool. He tugged it on. ‘Wow. This is so warm.’ He smiled as he glanced down at it. “It fits me so well. Almost as if you knew my size. These bits are amazing.”

“I have conjured clothing for centuries.” She smiled. “And thank you.” She passed him stockings and leather boots. “These will fit, too.”

He chuckled. “From ‘may fit’ to ‘will fit.’ I like it.”

“The first were made for general purposes and these were made specifically for you.”

“Thank you again.”

“You are welcome.” She sat on a rock near him. “How did you end up here?”

“As I told your mate, I have no idea. The last thing I remember, I was fighting for my life in Haavastaad’s arena.”

“And then?”

Carter shrugged. “I woke up after brushing against something which clattered away.” He glanced around. “I was over there.” He pointed.

Belinthrax walked to where the Walker of Worlds indicated and picked up a skull. “One of my chewing toys. I like to gnaw on it as I ruminate.”

“Oh.” He sighed. “Would either of you be willing and able to get me back to where I was, or to Queen Adora?”

“Yes to both.” The male platinum dragon walked over to stand before Carter. “However, you have a big choice to make.”

“What do you mean?”

“The choices are rather important for both you, and The Realm.” The female dragon said from behind her mate.

“If you go back to where you came from – the arena – you will be able to soon after gain an ally that Adora desperately needs.” Belinthrax stared intently into Carter’s eyes.

The female dragon spoke up. “If you go to her – instead – you’ll soon after learn more about who you are and why you’re here.”

Carter rose and moved around the eggs, stepping carefully to not disturb them. He shook his head. “What are you leaving out?”

She dipped her head. “A wise question.”

Belinthrax nodded. “There are things we’re leaving out.”

“Possible consequences for your choices.” Even in her humanoid form, the female had a distinctly draconic smile – showing too many teeth and a predatory air. “The ally may cost Adora her war. If, that is, you are unable to get them on your side.”

“Going to her, on the other hand, may help you achieve your destiny faster, but may also cost you her totally.” Silvery flames covered the elf and Belinthrax’s dragon form stretched out next to the eggs once more. He lowered his head next to Carter’s. “This we have seen.”

“Bloody hell.” Carter ran his fingers through his hair.

###

Dearbhaile strode up the hill to the small hut. ‘I wonder if Líadan is still here?’

The hut seemed to have been pulled from the hill by magic for its construction. Various dried herbs and flowers hung from the eaves above lintel. Mushrooms lay in a bowl partially covering the opening of a rain barrel.

The round wooden door sat open, allowing fresh air to circulate throughout. She crossed the threshold, and waited for her eyes to adjust to the dimness within. Her sharp elven hearing could detect no sounds inside. ‘Bah. She nae be here.’ Dearbhaile turned her head, bringing her left ear forward. ‘Me hearing be better from this side, but I still hear no one.’

As her eyes grew accustomed to the near darkness, she was able to make out the details of the small home. A cauldron dangled from a hook over hot coals. The lid danced and jittered as the contents bubbled. Tongs for gripping the lid and a spoon for stirring the contents hung on the wall beside the fireplace. ‘Should I move or stir it?’ She stepped closer and the whiff of mint and rosehips tickled her nose. ‘No. She’s brewing a remedy and I don’t know where she is in the process.’

A large table sat nearby, covered with various herbs, flowers, and fungi. Knives hung above a carving board, and behind a mortar and pestle. Jars and bottles of a mix of shapes and sizes rested on a rack hanging from the wall. A calcinator stood with unlit twigs between its legs.

One root caught her eye. The brilliant green color drew her in, and she swiftly picked it up and stuck it in her mouth. A sweet explosion hit her tongue and she closed her eyes in bliss.

“You’ve never been able to resist slemperwort root.” The familiar voice came from behind her. “Even when we were kids.”

Dearbhaile spun around. “Líadan.”

The other woman nodded. “Sister.”

“How have ye been?”

“Well. Yourself?”

“Not tae well. Six years ago, I be kidnapped by tha half-demon Belial. I’ve only recently escaped after much torture and torment.”

“By Kellün’s drippy asshole, how did you manage that?”

Dearbhaile laughed. “Yer vulgarity has always amused me, Líadan.” The laughter vanished as if it had never existed. “Ah use Blood Magic tae escape.”

Líadan’s hands flew up to cover her mouth. Face pale, and eyes wide, she stared at her sister. “Tell me you’re joking, please.”