The Lord of Death (The Age of Dawn Book 2) by Everet Martins Page A

neck. “That was long overdue.”
    “You insolent prick, how dare you meddle in my affairs,” Malek said, eyes burning with glowing intensity.
    “Your affairs? Ezra was about to mobilize the Falcon. You had one task and you failed. Why he lets you live is beyond me.” Darkthorne gingerly flipped pages in his book.
    “No, no, no, my friend you have it all wrong. The King is alive and well and your Skin Flayers are quite dead,” Malek said smiling. “The King is still under my control. Your minions were slain by a few humans.” A Skin Flayer in the circle lunged at him, but stopped when Darkthorne raised his hand. It hefted its glowing blades, growling, its face a mask of sheer flesh except for the golden eyes.
    “I know the Falcon is moving, I received a report from a trusted source today. You have indeed failed and you are also a bad liar.”
    Malek’s face reddened and his fists tightened around his blade and boiling eyeball. “You know nothing!” Malek screamed. Beams of red death shot from his eyes, tunneling towards Darkthorne. Darkthorne pressed his arm forward, palm splayed. A green rectangle split the air, translucent before him. The red beam collided with the glowing shield and it vibrated, shattering into thousands of splinters of blue light.
    Darkthorne fell back, tumbling down an unseen slope. The beasts around him screeched and roared. The red light that bathed his eyes winked out and the eyeball shriveled in his hand. He dropped the Basilisk’s eye and grasped the glowing Plague Blade in both hands. Too many . He twisted, dodging a spear in flight. He turned on his heels and sprinted to the room’s entrance.
    The beasts followed, barking, jaws snapping the air, blades spinning, and clawed feet pounding. At the room’s entryway, a blue portal exploded to life behind Malek. Some tried to stop. Those at the back pushed harder, forcing those at the front through the portal’s entrance.
    “Come on, come get me you stupid bastards!” Malek laughed, arms wide. Somewhere high upon the Mountains of Misery a portal snapped open, dumping a small horde of Death Spawn into its icy, notched peaks. They screeched and pushed, tumbling through the portal.
    Malek allowed the portal to close, and finished the few that remained with deft slashes of his blade.
    “The great lord will hear of this,” Darkthorne said rapidly, flipping pages of his tome. “Ah man iptus daman!” he incanted.
    The floor begin to rumble. The ground under Malek’s feet cracked. He shuffled aside and a black tentacle rose from the ground. Its gelatinous form wound into the air as if scenting. It turned on Malek, rushing towards him. He slashed left, right, and diagonally sending three waves of light into it. The tentacle easily passed through the streaks of light and Malek rolled, barely avoiding its slam. The tentacle rose to strike again and paused in the air. Small creatures that resembled forest squirrels sprouted from its skin, skittering across its body. Hundreds of them began devouring its flesh, cackling wickedly. The tentacle rose and shot back into the ground.
    “That was different,” Malek said, glancing at the Plague Blade.
    Two more tentacles exploded from the ground on either side of Malek. One snatched his leg and the other his arms, lifting him into the air. They pulled on his body, stretching him to his breaking point. His sword clattered to the ground, green light fading.
    “Release me, now!” Malek screamed.
    “You are in no position to make demands.”
    Another tentacle sprouted between the two and enveloped his body in its crushing grip. It cinched and wrapped around his torso. A rib cracked and burst through his skin, tearing at his robe.
    “You shouldn’t have come here,” Darkthorne said, purple light emanated from behind the bars of his helm. He is favored by the great lord. How could I have been so stupid and forgotten?
    “You’ve ruined everything, everything.” Malek whispered. “I’ll have your