We discussed the strategy, and I assumed the human form I’d grown accustomed to over the past year. I found this body’s limitations rather annoying, but it would serve much better than my natural form in these tight quarters. I even hoped that approaching any traps this way would make things easier, since they were likely only intended to keep out noisy minions.

  The main traps would have been placed upon the entrance that Iskaldurdauoi used, since the most obvious threat to his hoard was other dragons. There would, of course, be magic placed nearer the hoard itself. Adventurers had become a greater nuisance in some of my newest memories from the dream.

  I’d had a lifetime of personal experience with just how annoying those adventuring types could be. If my ancestors thought having thieving rogues come for their hoard was a pain, they should have tried living with them—or had to endure the advances of a mating crazed human female like Lisella.

  When we headed back down the tunnels, I tracked the path that I’d followed while in my astral form. I reinforced this weak body with scales and claws, and had a couple of different spells ready. Behind me, Cami had her spear out. The blade glowed with a magical fire, but I could tell that there was something different about it.

  It was as though the spear had an almost draconic presence to it. I made a mental note to ask Cami more about that—later.

  The further we went, the darker the atmosphere became, and I’m not just talking about the dim light of the tunnels. The weight of necromantic magic grew heavy and pressed against our senses. The very walls of the cave seemed to absorb what little light there was from a few flickering lanterns, casting elongated and twisted shadows. Fortunately, I had little need for light to see by. Even in my human form, my senses had grown stronger.

  Fortunately, Cami seemed to share a portion of my increased perception.

  The air grew even colder, if such a thing were possible. But this was no longer the cold of biting mountain winds, of snow or even ice. This was a chill that seeped into our very souls.

  I sensed the wrongness in this place—the remnants of dark magic that hung in the air. It felt like a perversion of the natural order. A few times, I had to stop and just stared. It was both alien and ugly at the same time.

  The magic sought to interrupt the flow of magic in Ileria, to replace death for life. Yet the longer I stared at it, the more convinced I became that there was another layer here that I could no longer quite make out. This was, after all, only the residue of ritual magic that had been worked in this place.

  We were careful. More than anything, it was clear that the remnants of the dark magic which had transformed Iskaldurdauoi into a dracolich still lingered.

  “You can feel that, can’t you?” Cami’s voice was hushed, her eyes wide as she glanced around nervously.

  “The wrongness?” I snorted—which just wasn’t as impressive in this puny form. “I don’t just feel it, I can see how it twisted the world around it.”

  I tried to think of something to say which would draw her attention back to my majesty. I knew that would lighten her mood, but words escaped me.

  “For once, I’m glad I’m not a dragon,” she murmured.

  It was an odd statement, but I was too lost in the twisted way this place rubbed me wrong to reply. As we moved forward, the deathly chill intensified. When I put it in those terms, I realized it was the residue of the ancient white dragon's essence combined with the malevolent energy from the necromantic ritual. We could see where patches of frost had formed on the walls and the ground, glimmering in the sparse, flickering light. Had Iskaldurdauoi feared death so much that he’d voluntarily submitted his very soul to this twisting?

  By now, I’d realized that most dragons didn’t understand our relationship with Ileria. But even a short-sighted white should have known that no good could come from something which felt so unnatural.

  The walls now bore etchings. Dark symbols—runes, perhaps?—were embedded deep into the stone. They pulsed ominously, a dark red glow emerging from them and then fading, before reappearing once more… almost as if they were breathing. The sight was eerie, and every instinct told me that these were related to the dark magic which seemed to possess this lair.

  What itched at the back of my mind was the nearly perfect nature of the runes. They had not been carved by a dragon’s claw. They were far too precise… almost darkly elegant. No, this would have been done by much smaller hands—yet there was no evidence that Iskaldurdauoi had ever learned to transform.

  It was certainly not the work of those brutish shamans I’d encountered earlier. No, this looked to be the work of a master mage. Perhaps Tolston? But even that felt off. There was another force at work here, but I had only my gut instinct on that. There was nothing definitive to prove it—yet.

  Cami hesitated in front of one such rune. “These aren’t just ordinary runes, Nico. They’re anchors… anchoring the dark magic in place. We need to be careful. Disturbing them might weaken the magic... or it could strengthen it. They appear to be similar to some of the work that I do when crafting a soul item, but it's as if they’ve been twisted into something ugly.” She shuddered. “Rather than giving life, they seek to pervert or even to destroy it.”

  I nodded.

  We discussed whether to try to dispel the lingering effects, but decided that the magic didn’t appear to be active. I did, however, think it prudent to disrupt the runes so the ritual could not be used again. We took claw and enchanted spear to work and broke up the shapes that made up each rune. The work was painstakingly slow, but I wasn’t about to rush blindly into a trap.

  As we continued our journey deeper into the heart of the lair, remnants of the dragon’s minions became evident. The bones of ogres and goblins lay scattered about, their life force consumed by Iskaldurdauoi’s dark pact . Some were little more than withered husks that even now seemed to shrink in horror, frozen in mid-motion as an eternal reminder of their unwilling sacrifice.

  Unfortunately, those were not the most disturbing ones. Those we found when we reached the inner sanctum of Iskaldurdauoi’s lair. This was where his hoard should have been. It was the place he would have slept upon his gold—at least that was how all the dragons in the Dragon Dream would have done it.

  But instead of mountains of gold, there were only a few scattered remains of coins. They all looked like they’d been partially dissolved or exposed to acid. Whatever treasures had been here once, had been consumed by this magic.

  That was a most horrifying thought. To corrupt something as pure as gold? That was a vile evil indeed.

  Suddenly, the eerie silence was interrupted by a guttural growl that echoed through the caverns. We stopped in our tracks. Out of the darkness, shambling figures emerged–remnants of the white dragon’s undead minions. Their eyes glowed a vibrant, piercing red, a stark contrast to their decaying flesh.

  At that moment, I felt such anger about what had been done to a dragon’s hoard—to the gold—that I welcomed a foe to vent my frustrations upon. Then the creatures charged us.

  Chapter 11 - Life and Death

  The monstrosities which walked out of the shadows were not at all what I expected. I had supposed that there would be skeletons and zombies, probably of a size to match the minions the dragon had possessed. But that wasn’t what caught my eye.

  Oh, sure enough, there were some of those, but the one behind them was what drew my full attention. It was a bony creature, but was dressed in resplendent robes. It carried a well worked and obviously enchanted staff. Magic was wrapped thick around him—at least I assumed it was a ‘him’.

  I hissed, “Great… another lich. How many of you are there?”

  The creature cackled. “I’ll admit that was not the response I expected. Typically, I get shudders, trembling, terror, begging for your life… that sort of thing. I suppose we’ll get to that point, eventually. Then again, we can always take our time getting there. You are a dragon, after all.”

  I hissed, although it lacked the terrifying intensity a hiss would have had in my true form. “I take it you were expecting us?”

  Cami had inched a bit closer to me, her hands firmly gripping her spear. I could sense the readiness in her, the fight. It was good. She had no fear of this creature and she was ready for battle.

  “Well, I expected you to come through the main entrance. Dragons don’t usually come crawling in through the servants' back door. That arrogance is a part of what makes your kind so unbelievably annoying, the way you just rush into everything. Yet it also makes you predictable/ And when one hunts dangerous prey, predictable is good.”

  “I am not prey,” I snapped, stepping forward.

  Cami tugged on my arm, holding me back.

  I needed to be careful. Rage was building in me at the temerity of this lich, but that voice in the back of my head told me not to give in to it. He was baiting me.

  Seeing I was back in control and wasn’t going to blindly attack, Cami added, “We’re ready, lich.”

  “Ah, yes… the dragon rider. My master bade me offer you a job before I kill you. All you need to do is abandon this walking energy source. After I’ve drained him for my master, you can come with me and become part of the everlasting kingdom.”

  “Everlasting kingdom?” She snorted.

  I really had to learn what she saw inside her head that was so fascinating.

  “Weren’t you just complaining about how arrogant dragons are?”

  The lich nodded. “Ah, I suppose we do have our own hubris. Either way, I can already see what your decision will be.”

  Cami didn’t answer, so I answered for her, “As if she’d join the losing side. So far, the undead we’ve fought haven’t fared all that well.”

  “Those failed experiments… I wouldn’t gauge your success based upon those half-measures. I am a true lich, with all that entails. Even if you manage to destroy this body, it will only be a matter of time until I reform and come back to attack you again. My master and all his true servants are as inevitable as death itself, as implacable as…”

  I shook my head. There was no point in talking to one such as this. I didn’t need to hear his monologue. So, I launched myself at him.

  Dragon Warrior Form

  There might be enough room to take my true form here, but it would still have been constricting to actually fight in my full dragon form here. I supposed if frost giants could move around freely in here, then a twelve-foot-tall humanoid dragon should have no trouble at all.

  A skull couldn’t really impart much in the way of facial expressions, but the way the lich screeched mid-speech was terribly satisfying. I knew I’d never reach him—not until we’d weakened his magic—but it was worth it, just to shut him up.

  A defensive wall sprang up in front of him, creating a wall of pure force.

  My claws slammed into the wall and sparks shot out as I activated Shocking Aura. Even my great strength couldn’t make a dent in the metaphysical concept of force. There would be no battering my way through it. His barrier was the figuratively immoveable object. I would have to break down the magic first, but I hadn’t forgotten that I needed to deal with his underlings.

  The lich quickly recovered from his shock and began cursing at me.

  I tuned him out as ogre sized ghouls jumped at me.

  Evasion

  They were fast, but my training had taught me mastery of this form. In some ways, I could move more agilely in this humanoid form than I could in my natural form. So much of my recent training had been in a similarly humanoid form. This Dragon Warrior form was the best of both worlds. I enjoyed a degree of protection that soft pink skin could never offer, but I also had the flexibility and dexterity that came with a humanoid form.

  The ghouls were quick, but it seemed to me like they were moving through thick syrup. Evasion enabled me to avoid their initial attack. Now, I grabbed one by the back of the neck as it leaped beyond me. My taloned fingers sank into his back and dug under his shoulder blade. This allowed me to pick up his squirming undead body and use it like a shield.

  The danger with ghouls wasn’t their strength, it was the curse carried in their claws. I trusted that my Monk skill, Pure Mind-Pure Body, would make me effectively immune, but I wasn’t eager to test this assumption more than was absolutely necessary. These creatures could lose a battle and still spread their vile curse. That was how potent the curse was.

  Other than truly intelligent undead like the lich, they presented the greatest threat.

  I slammed the ogre ghoul’s body into his compatriot, knocking it backward. The large undead spun like a top, bowling over half a dozen goblin ghouls. The creatures all groaned, but it was hard to say if that was because of injury or simply because it was the only noise they were capable of.

  At least half the goblins had been crushed by the force of the impact. It wouldn’t truly end them, but even undead needed functioning limbs to move.

  Spinning around, I used my tail to sweep the legs of another couple of goblin ghouls before I launched myself at two more of the ogre ghouls.

  Flurry Attack

  My hands blurred as they rapidly delivered a dozen blows. Each stroke of my claws either cut deeply into bone or removed a limb from the undead ogres. The electricity dancing along my scales seared their flesh and forced them back, even if they felt no fear.

  When I managed to knock both of them down, I opened my mouth and blasted the fallen ghouls with Acid Breath. Their bodies began to thrash about as the black liquid melted the flesh from their bones. I leaped back out of the way just in time to avoid a massive ice spear that skewered the spot where I’d been standing a moment before.

  Hopefully, the acid would finish those two off, because it seemed the lich had recovered from his shock and anger.

  I glanced at Cami. She was surrounded by undead, but doing well. She spun her spear around her in an elegant dance of death. The burning blade brought true release to more than one of the undead who continued to line up to attack her.

  Sadly, their mindless nature meant they didn’t have the sense to fear that burning spear. Cami would just have to hold her own for a bit longer. I turned my focus to the lich.

  “You’re little pets didn’t last very long,” I sneered.

  He cackled. “Long enough, fool lizard.”

  I suddenly regretted that I hadn’t let Vox teach me the intangibility spell. I pushed the regret away. I had all the tools I needed to win. How could I not? I was me.

  I just needed to get around the force field that protected him. I raced around one side only to realize that he had shaped what I had thought was a simple wall into a dome. Ugh. Nothing was ever easy.

  I ran through my options as I dodged the ice projectiles he launched at me. I needed to come up with a plan before he grew tired of such a simple spell and dug deeper into his magic arsenal. That dome of force would stop any physical or elemental attack. It might not stop Malcor’s Wings… but I wasn’t sure. Unfortunately, much of the power of that attack would be lost on undead.

  I could always use my Anti-Magic Pulse, but I wanted to save that for a do or die situation. I supposed I could unleash one of the stored attacks in my bracers against the floor. His protective dome needed something to rest upon, after all. But even one of my stored attacks was powerful enough to destroy the floor of the lair—which I had my doubts about—such a result would have dire consequences for Cami.

  Then it hit me. Eureka… ouch!

  A spinning ice blade cut through the scales of my side. I cursed in pain but looked upward. Iskaldurdauoi truly had been short-sighted. He’d never gone to the trouble of removing the massive stalactites which covered much of cavern’s roof.

  I shouted mentally at Cami, “Get to the edge of the chamber!” Then I launched myself upward.

  “What are you doing, you fool?” the lich hissed.

  The lich’s voice was lost in the cacophony of tons of rock shattering and then dropping down on top his dome of force. I had unleashed the full force of a tail smash from my true form, sweeping aside a dozen of the massive rock formations. All the power of that mass and muscle blasted into the cavern’s ceiling.

  For a moment, it seemed like the entire mountain shook and the very air cracked.

  The lich's dome shimmered with an ethereal light, a nearly transparent bastion that defied the very laws of nature. It stood defiant, unbowed by the colossal weight above it. If nothing else, it was a testament to how magic defied the normal physical processes.

  But while the force-field itself was unyielding, the ground it rested upon was another matter entirely. As the ceiling of the cave disintegrated, a relentless cascade of massive stalactites, jagged and menacing, plummeted down like dozens of vengeful dragon claws. The air became thick with dust, creating a haze that obscured my view of the Lich.