Doomraga's Revenge Read Online Free PDF Page B

fell over the group. Except for the crackling flames of the portal, and the occasional skittering of a pumice pebble that rolled down the volcanic ridge, no sound could be heard. Basilgarrad watched his friends with dismay. And with growing frustration: He had no idea how to stop this argument, and no idea where it might lead. For the first time in a long while—only a few moments after he had vanquished an army of dragons—he felt totally powerless.
    Merlin was the first to speak again. To the dragon’s relief, his voice was calm, even kind. “Look, son,” he began, searching for the right words, “I know I haven’t . . . been much of a father. I suppose . . . I thought, when you grew up, we could find—”
    “When I grew up!” spat Krystallus, quaking with rage. “Once you decided I didn’t have any wizard’s magic, you forgot all about me. Not that I care! Just don’t pretend you ever wanted to be a real father.”
    Merlin staggered, nearly losing his balance on the rim of the crater. His complexion, lit by the flickering flames, whitened again with anger, and his eyes flashed. “I could have done better, that’s certain. But I didn’t have much material to work with.”
    Ignoring Hallia’s gasp, he added, “You never showed any sense. Never! Which is why you think nothing of trying to impress your mother by dragging her through a deadly maze of portals, right into a battleground.”
    “I didn’t drag her.”
    “You could have killed her! Portalseeking isn’t child’s play. Surely I at least taught you that!”
    Krystallus stared at his father. In a voice as hard as iron, he said, “You never taught me anything . Except how to be a terrible father.”
    Hallia bit her lip, glancing from one of them to the other.
    Merlin’s eyebrows, thicker than brambles, lifted. “And you never taught me anything except—”
    “Stop,” cried Hallia. “Say no more!”
    But her husband ignored her. “How to be a miserable son.”
    Krystallus slowly sucked in his breath. Then, without another word, he spun around and strode straight into the green flames of the portal. A loud crackle split the air—and he was gone.
    Basilgarrad slowly shook his gargantuan head. How, he wondered, had the evening’s victory turned so quickly into defeat?
    Hallia drew her blue shawl closer, as if a chill wind had blown through the desolate lands around the crater. She looked up at the stars for a few seconds, hoping to find some guidance or, perhaps, some comfort. But the deep lines on her brow showed she had found neither.
    Merlin, meanwhile, stared into the shimmering flames that had just swallowed his son—and any chance of an ongoing relationship. Slowly, his coal-black eyes lowered, until he was gazing morosely at his boots.
    Hallia turned to him and snapped, “You foolish, foolish man! Don’t you know that he’s become one of Avalon’s boldest explorers? That he’s been through more portals than even Queen Serella of the elves?”
    The wizard frowned. “No . . . I didn’t know. I’ve been too—”
    “Busy, yes, I know.” She snorted.
    Defensively, Merlin grumbled, “I still say it was reckless to bring you here! Even if you did ask, he should have known better. Why would he do such an idiotic thing?”
    She strode closer. “Don’t you see, you brainless oaf? By bringing me all the way here, he was trying to impress someone—the person whose opinion matters most.”
    “You, of course.”
    “No!” She glared at him. “ You . His father.”
    Merlin looked into her face, genuinely taken aback. “Me?”
    “How else, without any magic of his own, does he prove himself?” Her voice dropped to a quaking whisper. “How else does he make himself worthy of being the son of Merlin?”
    The wizard didn’t answer. He merely turned and gazed into the restless, shape-shifting flames.

6: M AGICAL S PARKS
    Learning a new language is easy—even the underwater words of mer folk, or the whistle-speak of cloud