In which debts are paid for good...
112
Nikola Tesla vanished into that onslaught, disappeared entirely without another sound, another word. They took him, cloak, golden spear and all, the souls the Gorgamok had trapped, took him and a good chunk of the treasure hoard, leaving absolutely nothing behind them as they went.
The low hum which had become a low groan became a high pitched scream now. Through it she saw the faces of those she had tried to save, theirs and so many others, people in garb she recognized, many she did not, people from time periods long past and some from periods forgotten. Most were human, plainly human at least, some were not. Some were alien to her, very, very alien.
They all had something in common and it could be read even on the most alien of those visages. They, all of them, wore expressions of eternal relief on their faces, a semblance of utter release and contentment she hoped she'd feel as well upon her own death. It was over for them finally, for every one of them at long last. They were finally free.
The Dragon continued to let them loose them, the bonds simultaneously snapping all around him, their power apparently freeing him from his own bonds as well. He stood , those powerful legs of his raising him up as the souls continued to pour out of him, leaving through his eyes and his mouth.
For a moment he halted, shutting that great mouth and turned towards her, the glow still within, but weaker now, much weaker. In her mind she saw the body of the fallen Werewolf, her sweet Zeus.
She nodded, understanding.
He waited then, waited as the demonic treasure hoard howled with a million voices, every piece of gold, every precious gem, every platinum necklace screaming in unison, waited while she ran to her friend.
She took Zeus into her arms, his wolf body surprisingly light, and as tenderly as possible lifted him up onto one shoulder.
She heard the thing inside the treasure launch curses at her as she made her way as fast as she could out of the chamber, not stopping until she was well beyond the great Dragon. Only then did she turn around, never, ever dropping Zeus, even when the dead weight seemed too much.
After stripping the last dead little bits of Tesla's trap from his body, Blackmoon opened that maw once again and out they flew. This time they came full force, those remaining within and the sounds they emitted, that of joyous laughter, drowning out the monster that had made that once unholy place it's home. Blackmoon let them spread out, turning his great neck here and there, getting all of Andvari's Gold within his cone of flame and life.
She found tears coming to her eyes as they rushed here and there, sweeping up all of it and taking it with them, laughter and now song never leaving their spectral lips. Every hair on her body stood on it's end as they went their way, leaving nothing shiny and evil remaining.
When it had finally all passed and they were gone, the cause of all the darkness stood revealed.
She was small, in a little yellow dress, with hair the color of straw and eyes as deep and blue as Blackmoon's own. In her hands she carried a bag, small, brown and worn.
She hovered about fifteen feet off the ground, her entire body encased in a clear bubble. From the bubble dripped large drops of light, each one hitting the ground and instantly growing, transforming into grotesque caterpillar things which quickly shriveled up and died.
She blinked once, her face contorting into an expression of inhuman rage before she vanished, the bubble she hovered in flying quickly over the Dragon, past Lorelei Price and out into the darkness.
End part 112
If you find yourself interested in the whole damnedable thing and wanna throw me a few bucks, here's a link to it on Amazon.
https://www.amazon.com/Dragons-Blood-Felipe-Mena/dp/1467990639/ref=tmm_pap_swatch_0?_encoding=UTF8&qid=1470836827&sr=8-1