Fate's Hand by Christopher Lynn Read Free Book Online

find a way to send me back. If you plan on spending your spare time in pursuit of a fruitless effort, then please, be my guest. Just don’t let it impede the task I set before you. You can’t finish that potion because the last ingredient, Crueltara Enduris, doesn’t exist.
    “ I made it up. The potion is complete. Thank you. I knew you would stop, in fear of using the potion without that last ingredient. As I said before, you don’t need to know every detail of my plans.”
    Yusar gritted his teeth and spun on his heel. Before he made it to the door, Drask called out.
    “No, stay. I might need you to hold back the beast I summon.”
    Yusar turned and walked to the center of the room, where Drask stood. His summoning circle was erased from the floor with a new one in its place.
    “This is different from the one in the scroll.”
    Drask took off the top of the bottle and flashed Yusar an evil grin.
    “Right, fine,” Yusar said harshly, taking his spellcasting stance.
    Drask turned the bottle up and drank the contents. His head dropped and he stood motionless, waiting for the potion to take effect. Everything in the room began to become enhanced to Drask: the crackle of the fire sounded like trees being snapped in half, the fires burning atop the candle were massive flares that warmed his face. He stood impassively and tuned it all out, listening. Then it came, softly, fading in and out at first but soon as clear as a whisper in his ear. The tone, the tempo, and —most importantly—the name. He repeated every word, matched every syllable and note. The words ran off his tongue and formed a harsh and raspy mix. Drask spoke for what seemed like a night, but he knew the effects of the potion drew time out. Finally, the circle flared to life and the stone floor seemed to melt.
    A large paw crossed the threshold. The claws ran across the stone until it found solid footing. The muscles of the coming arm flexed and pulled the monster up through the floor. Its eyes, all six of them, showed brightly. A deep growl bathed Drask with a wave of fetid breath — the familiar smell of his father’s plane. His face turned into a grimace, but he kept his concentration and continued leading the Cerberus through the portal. Some of the bristle-black hair on the beast was still smoking as he finally set all fours on the floor. Everything came back to normal speed and sound at once and Drask looked on at his prize.
    The three-headed dog stood before Drask ready to pounce. Yusar slid his foot ever-so-slightly across the floor and the beast turned and jumped at the wizard. Yusar exploded into motion, casting a spell to defend himself. Drask quickly cited a spell, lashing out with a fire-covered rope to catch the dog around his hind leg. Drask looked with amusement around the Cerberus to Yusar. The wizard was standing with several swords —large and phantasmal—spinning and twirling around him.
    The dog was using two heads to pull the fiery rope tight for the third to chew on. Drask jerked the rope and called out.              
    “ Strife. Come to me.”
    The dog stopped chewing and walked cautiously over to Drask. The devil prince held out his hand and let the hell dog smell it.
    “I know I’m not your master, but you know me. And I will give you something my father never let you have: fun. Elves, humans, dwarves, everything. You help me with one task and I’ll let you run across the land spreading chaos and death. The dog growled its assent and sat before Drask.
    “ Good,” Drask said. “I need you to find someone.”
    Drask pulled the end of the summoning from his mind, dispelled the fire-rope, and dissolved the summoning circle from underneath Strife. Drask removed a glove from his right hand and held it before the Cerberus, which dutifully inhaled the scent. Drask pulled his hand back, walked over and touched the stone wall. A large open window appeared in the masonry. Yusar watched with amazement.
    “Now go, and