The shadow dragon fought back mentally, his strength divided between two forms.
In Dhamon’s mind two dragons fought—one mirror-black scales and supple lines, the other a large, gray beast, sluggish and depleted, but nevertheless formidable.
The old one lashed out with a great taloned claw, slashing at the new dragon. “Surrender,” the old one hissed. “You’ve no choice. And you only anger me by resisting.”
The new dragon roared a word that sounded like “Never,” a word that echoed in the confines of Dhamon’s mind. The new dragon reached out with a claw, too, batting away the old creature, not hurting the shadow dragon, but keeping it at bay.
As Dhamon shook off his thick dazedness, his goal became increasingly clear.
You took on too much, Dhamon told the shadow dragon bitterly.
I will best your spirit, the shadow dragon returned. Then I will best your companions.
In Dhamon’s mind the old dragon dove toward the mirrored one, both claws outstretched, mouth opened wide, showing rows of jagged, shadowy teeth. A serpentine tongue snaked out, whipping the air, then lashing at the snout of the new dragon.
Dhamon recoiled from the image in his mind. You’ve no more magical items, dragon, he cursed vehemently. There’s nothing to power your dying spell.
But I do, the shadow dragon instantly returned. There’s magic in the wingless sivak, and more in the ogre-mage. The naga, too. Their deaths will release the energy I need.
Then the shadow dragon began to retreat back into his old body.
“There is time to vanquish your spirit later, Dhamon Grimwulf,” the shadow dragon hissed. “First I must collect more of the necessary essence—starting with your friends.”
So you don’t have enough power yet to wipe out my humanity, Dhamon said. There must be something about me that is too difficult to overcome. What?
Why was the shadow dragon having so much trouble? Dhamon wondered. Could it be he carried a touch of Fiona’s madness, bequeathed to Dhamon by the Chaos wight who had invaded his mind? The shadow dragon might not be able to cope with that unexpected fragment of madness lodged within the body he had been nurturing for his own ends.
Yes, that madness is the final barrier, the shadow dragon admitted. But with more magic, I will defeat the madness. After your friends are dead, their energy will be mine. When they are gone, I will come again. And then you will be destroyed.
Maldred slashed with his claws at the bloated shadow dragon. He’d used magic to sharpen his claws, and now he began to slice through the dragon’s scales and draw shadow-dark blood. “Killing this dragon is the key!” he cried exultantly. “I’m sure of it!”
The draconian struggled with the naga, his clawed fingers tightening around her neck. The Solamnic Knight was slowly backing away from Ragh and Dhamon, watching as though mesmerized as the shadow dragon came alive and raised a claw and batted Maldred away as though he was but a cornhusk doll. The shadow dragon spread forward, dull yellow eyes locked on Ragh, its jaws opening.
“Rig is dead,” Fiona murmured dully to herself. “Shaon and Raph and Jasper. All dead. Soon Ragh will be dead. And Maldred too. Everyone dead.”
The shadow dragon hardly bothered to glance at the Solamnic Knight, as it closed on the draconian and the naga, its lips drawn back in a feral smile, showing its teeth.
The beast didn’t even care about her, she thought. First it would finish Maldred. Then Ragh. Finally she would be the only one left alive… the only one… alone.
Fiona rushed forward, sword gleaming in the magical light that still swirled around the chamber. She brushed by Ragh and closed on the shadow dragon, swept her sword hard and wide, and bit into a thick, scaly plate on the dragon’s stomach.
The shadow dragon wheeled on her, astonished to have been attacked by a lone human. His eyes narrowed on the magic weapon.
“Your sword,” the shadow dragon cried. “I will have it now.”
“Fiona!” Maldred shouted.
“I’ll have the magic in your sword,” the dragon repeated, “and I’ll have you.”
Fiona spat at the beast and pulled back, swinging her sword forward into the dragon’s outstretched claw, digging into dragon flesh and causing a spurt of black blood.
“Come and get me, dragon!” she yelled.
“Fiona, get back!” Maldred shouted again. He had come up behind the dragon, where he touched his thumbs together and hurriedly tried a spell. His hands took on a faint green glow, and he stood and pointed his fingers like weapons at the shadow dragon.
Ragh finished his strangling of the naga and dropped her to the ground. He stumbled over her serpent-body, spun and shot for the shadow dragon.
At that moment, with the shadow dragon distracted by so many foes, Dhamon felt a surge of power.
In his mind’s eye the mirrored dragon had been chasing the evil dragon. Now the mirrored one breathed a black cloud that streamed toward the other.
Fiona thrust upward. Her enchanted blade dug deep into the staggered shadow dragon.
He had sacrificed too much energy to power the transference spell. He had used up all but the last of the god-magic that had birthed him in the Abyss.
Again Fiona thrust her sword, unknowingly buying Dhamon precious seconds to increase his mental battle and release his breath weapon. Buying Maldred time to enforce his spell. Buying Ragh time to close on the weary old dragon with his talons.
“Come and get me, dragon!” Fiona yelled again.
The mirrored dragon breathed again in Dhamon’s mind—and suddenly that black breath materialized in the chamber beneath the mountains. The black, poisonous cloud raced away from Dhamon’s maw to engulf the shadow dragon’s head.
In the wink of an eye, the shadow dragon was finally purged from Dhamon’s mind, and in that instant, Dhamon shook off all of his sluggishness.
The shadow dragon slammed a claw down on Fiona. He swung his head about, watching Maldred balefully. The ogre’s spell sent globes of green fire at the creature.
Maldred with his green fire, Ragh with his mighty claws, Dhamon with his breath weapon. The three united to attack the beast.
It finally fell.
As Fiona had fallen.
When they looked around, the naga had disappeared without a trace. Ragh had thought the frightful creature was dead, but Nura must have slithered off during the final battle—the demise of her beloved master. They didn’t have the energy or the heart to follow after the child-snake-woman who had ensnared them all in her mad scheming.
They buried Fiona deep inside the dragon’s cave, near where she’d valiantly made her last stand.
Near her head, Maldred used his magic to turn the rock wall into liquid—for several moments—then he rammed her prized long sword into the stone. The once-enchanted sword would forever mark her honorable fate.
Maldred spread the enchantment over the earth and broken stones, sealing the spot into a smooth sheet of rock.
“I hope she’s found Rig again,” the draconian said when Maldred was finished. “I hope that if there is something beyond this world, a place where spirits go when their bodies are done… I hope she’s there with Rig. That together they’re at peace.”
Dhamon didn’t say anything. He closed his great dragon eyes and silently grieved—for Fiona and Rig, for Shaon and Raph and Jasper. For all the lives he’d touched and befouled. Minutes later, in eerie silence, he slipped from the chamber, taking the widest passage that climbed to the surface. Maldred and Ragh followed him.