Free Return of the Dragon (The Dragon's Champion Book 6) by Sam Ferguson Page A

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to the first, smaller room that had been given to him for training.
    As his feet carried him through the sparkling halls
his mind gave room for the doubts to grow. Had he lost his power, or was the
Immortal Mystic simply that much stronger than Marlin that his illusions were
harder to dispel?
    He tried to tell himself that he had slain Tu’luh, and
done many other great things that most men could never hope to achieve, but
then he heard Salarion’s voice bringing him back down to reality. Erik had
always had help. Dimwater and Lepkin had battled Tukai the warlock. Al had
saved Erik from Janik, and had used a large portion of his life force to do so.
When the dark wizard Erthor came to Valtuu Temple riding a twisted dragon,
Lepkin and Dimwater led an assault to protect Nagar’s Secret from falling to
the Blacktongues. Al had ventured with Erik and saved his life countless times
as Blacktongues assailed him at every turn. An entire army had stood behind him
at Lokton manor. He may have slain the warlock by his own sword, but none of that
would have been possible without the countless warriors who fought and died to
give him that chance. Jaleal and the other gnomes had saved him from the giant
spiders in the forest. A host of dwarves had helped him and the others fight
Tu’luh when Valtuu Temple was destroyed. Tillamon had tricked and killed the
shadowfiend pretending to be Patrical. Erik had ventured to fight Tu’luh on his
own, but even then he had Jaleal with him.
    He pushed through the glass door and went to the
middle of the room.
    He sat on the uncomfortable glass floor.
    Then he let himself lie down and he stared at the
thick, greenish ceiling above him. He could see shadows and light piercing
through and reflecting off the glass, but that was all. There didn’t appear to be any movement near him whatsoever. What had at first
been breathtaking and beautiful was now cold, and hollow. He was alone is a
gargantuan glass prison.
    He was more frustrated now than ever he had been.
Through every hardship before there had always been a shining hope to reach
for. The promise of his power, or the strength of a
dragon born warrior to lean upon had propelled him through it all in the
beginning. Then, when those had seemed not enough, there was the Immortal
Mystic. The one being in the realm who would know the answer to Tu’luh’s riddle
and show Erik how to defeat the four fireballs that would come to devour his
world. The Immortal Mystic was promised to show him the wisdom of fighting on,
when Tu’luh had presented an equally viable plan.
    Where was the hope now?
    The Immortal Mystic proved more austere than Lepkin
had ever been. Not only that, but there were no answers yet. Erik had been met
only with tacit approval, or outright displeasure, and this was only the first
day of training.
    Erik then reflected on the fact that he had been
allowed to sleep for weeks. What kind of nonsense was that? All
this time he was rushed around, walking, working, and fighting himself to the
bone just to reach the ultimate goal. Now, with Nagar’s Secret
presumably in Salarion’s hands and Lepkin holding off an orcish invasion, Erik
was placed under a magic spell and made to sleep for weeks. How was that going
to help?
    “You left me there,” a voice called out.
    Erik jumped and propped himself up on his elbows. No
one was there. He looked around and then shook his head. He closed his eyes,
but quickly opened them when Tatev’s face appeared in his mind. Erik tried to
fight it, but the guilt flooded back over him. Tatev’s screams filled the room
and Erik placed his hands over his ears.
    Those screams were joined by others. Scenes from the
battle at Lokton manor came to Erik’s mind. He tried to shut them out. He
conjured up the image of Nagar’s Secret, the book that promised to enslave all
of the Middle Kingdom.
    “I am fighting to protect them,” Erik said aloud as he
pressed his hands into his ears in an attempt to shut