Dragon Dodgers (Wounds in the Sky Prequels Book 1) (11 page)

The Dragon was dead.

“
How is she?” Targon
said through his gritting teeth. “How is Anweh?”

“
Serak is checking on
her.” Yarek told him. “Take it easy, Captain.”

The Dragon’s inert body stood between
him and where he had left Anweh. Around him, the survivors were
picking themselves up, tending to each other’s wounds. Thaeus was
kneeling besides the smoking corpses of Nasur and Thamet, weeping,
his body shaking.

“
Get me to her.
” The
Captain insisted. “Let me see her.”

Yarek signaled his brother, Marek, to help
him
. Together, they lifted
Targon up with his arms over their shoulders. He was in bad shape.
Each step he gave was like being stabbed in four different places
at the same time.

“
I think you broke a
couple of ribs, Captain.” Marek told him.

“
Just take me to her.” He
said, fighting through the pain.

Serak was kneeling beside Anweh,
inspecting her motionless body.

“
How is she?” Targon asked
him. “Is she alright?”

There came no answer. Serak simply
stood back up with his head low.

“
Serak…”

“
I’m sorry.” Was all he
said.

Tears flooded Targon’s eyes and he
dived to her.

“
No…” He hugged and kissed her as if that could somehow
bring her back. “No!” He screamed. Tears streamed down his cheeks.
“My little blossom…” He whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

“
Don’t worry, Captain.” He
heard a voice say, somewhere behind him. “You won’t be apart for
long.”

Before he
even realized the meaning of those words, he heard a loud crack and
suddenly the world vanished as his eyes began to burn. He heard a
cacophony of screams, punches and what was unmistakably the
squelching sound of stabs.

Disoriented,
he felt his way out of there, ignoring the pain of his wounds. The
screams continued. He could clearly distinguish the agonizing
voices of his men. Yarek, Thaeus, Liora, Shayllah. He had to do
something, help them somehow. He tried opening his eyes, but it
only made the burning worse, so he crawled, patting the ground,
looking for someplace to hide, hoping his Runners could do the
same.

He found a small boulder and slid behind it, then reached
the canteen in his belt and poured its content on his face.
As he expected, the water reacted
with the blind dust still sticking to his face, making it burn even
harder, but it also washed the dust away. He blinked his eyes
repeatedly, wiping them with the back of his gloves. Slowly, shapes
formed in front of him. He turned his attention to the noises in
the cave – the screams were dying out. Was everybody in his Company
dead? Who could have done such a thing?

Serak…

There was a thump of a last body
falling down.

“
Where are you, Captain?”
That voice… it wasn’t Serak. “You’re the only one
missing.”

Balcazar!

“
Your Runners are all
gone, Captain. Time to finish this.”

The bastard!
He had just murdered them all. Why?

“
Come on, Master Runner. Come out!”

T
he reward.
Targon realized.

“
I just killed all your
men. Surely you want revenge. I even killed your pretty girl. While
you were climbing the Dragon’s back, right before I passed you the
dagger. Impressive job, by the way.”

Targon
clenched his fists so hard they turned white. It took all his
self-control not to jump out and lunge towards him. He put his head
out and sneaked a peak. His vision was still fuzzy, but he could
make out Balcazar’s figure lurching near the Dragon’s
head.

“
You should have seen the idiots I brought the last time I
killed a Drago
n… Had to do it
all on my own. You on the other hand… I’m almost sorry I have to do
this.”

Targon
took another
peek. Balcazar had circled around and now had his back to him. He
took the chance. With a searing pain jolting up his leg, he dashed
across the cave, his regular skinning knife aimed at Balcazar’s
back. At the last instant, the Alchemy apprentice, if he really was
that, turned around, grabbed Targon’s arm and punched his broken
ribs. The Captain collapsed as the pain almost made him pass
out.

Balcazar laughed
sadistically.

“
Oh, you are brave,
Captain, I must say.” He said. “Oh, come on, don’t make that face…”
He grabbed Targon and lifted him up against the Dragon’s head. “You
should be proud of yourself. How many people have done what you
have?” Balcazar indicated the handle of the Glowstone dagger that
Targon had used to kill the Dragon, still sticking out of its
skull. “Oh wait, I can actually answer that. Only one – me!” He
laughed again.

“
I don’t get it…” Targon said
with blood spilling out of his mouth.

“
Of course you don’t.”
Balcazar told him as he put his knife to Targon’s throat. “And
you’re not supposed to. This is much bigger than you can
imagine.”

“
Just tell me, then finish
me off.”

Balcazar sighed and put a hand to his
heart.

“
You know that I have a soft heart, don’t you?” He quipped.
“And I do like you, so let’s just say that the secret of these
crystals has to be kept, well, secret.”

“
What, are you some kind of Dragon lover? Why would you let
me kill the Dragon in the first place, then?”

“
Captain…” Balcazar shook his head. “In the grand scheme of
things, the life of this Dragon is as insignificant as mine and
yours. And besides, a fresh Dragon corpse for studying is too good
of a gift to refuse. When you and your boys showed up on my
doorstep, so eager to help…” He chuckled. “I knew the goddess was
smiling down on me. Not that human shaped blasphemy they worship in
Saggad these days. The real, Dragon goddess.”

“
Ah… goddess… We have a
lot of those where I come from.”

“
Alas, none of us can
choose not to be born in the midst of barbarians. Goodbye, Captain.
It really was a pleasure.” Balcazar’s knife moved backwards, taking
balance.

“
One last thing.” Targon interrupted. “You did not kill all
my men.”

“
Hmm?”

“
You forgot my
apprentice.”

Balcazar’s eyes opened wide and he
spun around; Enrig was right next to him. The boy pulled the
Glowstone dagger out of the Dragon skull and shove it into
Balcazar’s gut.

The Alchemy
apprentice stumbled slightly and grabbed the dagger sticking out
from him. Gritting his teeth and spitting blood, he pushed it off
with a squelching sound. He held the dagger up, blood covering the
Glowstone blade, and lumbered towards Enrig. The boy faltered
backwards, tripped and fell. He saw Balcazar’s knife diving for
him, then a shape covered his sight – Targon’s shape – he had slid
himself in front of Enrig, receiving the blade on his own chest.
The Captain screamed, but held on to Balcazar, making sure he
couldn’t remove the Dagger.

“
Finish him off, kid.” Targon mumbled.

Enrig crawled, patting the ground, his
heart about to explode in his chest. He felt the handle of a knife,
grabbed it, jumped back up and jabbed down, stabbing Balcazar’s
neck.

There was a gurgling sound as blood
poured and bubbled from Balcazar’s mouth. His body jerked twice,
then it stopped and fell, lifelessly, over Targon.

The Captain pushed the murderer’s body
away from his, then pulled the dagger out of his chest.

He felt so
tired, so cold. His whole body was a mess of pain and blood. He was
having a hard time focusing his eyes. The world was spinning and
fading. Enrig kneeled in front of him.

“
Captain…” He sobbed.
“I…”

“
It’s ok, kid…” He tried
swallowing and felt a sickening taste of iron. “You did
good.”

“
I can find some patches, some stitches, I…”

“
No.” Targon said. “It’s
ok, you did ok.”

Enrig wiped the tears from his
eyes.

“
Reach into my pocket.”
Targon said. “My inner pocket.”

Enrig fiddled with Targon’s jacket and
removed three pieces of parchment.

“
One of those is a map. It should help you get back.” He
swallowed slowly. “The other one is a letter, Balcazar’s letter.
Burn it.” He coughed and the pain made him cringe. “The last one is
the proclamation of the king of Saggad. Keep it, collect the
reward. All you need is to carve some evidence from the Dragon
corpse.” Targon smiled. “You’ll be a rich man.”

Enrig couldn’t say
anything.

“
But I need to ask you one thing, though.” Targon went on,
his voice rougher.

“
Anything.” Enrig
replied.

“
It’s not a simple thing
to ask, but you should be able to hire some professional Runners to
help you.”

“
Anything.” Enrig
repeated.

“
Find my home town, Awam. It’s on the other side of
Arkhemia, on the western sea. You’ll like it.” His eyes became
distant, dreamy. “It’s on the cliffs by the ocean. There are dozens
of terraces where you can watch the sea. Feel the water sprinkle
your face every time a wave crashes into the rocks. Feel the breeze
ruffling your hair and hear the seagulls cry.” He stopped and for a
moment, Enrig thought he was gone. “You’ll like it there… Find my
wife, Shalim, and my son, Sargon… Give them some of the gold. Tell
them I couldn’t deliver it myself.”

Enrig sniffed.

“
I will. I
promise.”

“
Good, thank you.” Targon
said. “Could you do one last thing?”

Enrig nodded.

“
Sure.”

“
Drag me to Anweh. I don’t
want to die here.”

The boy wiped his face with the back
of his shirt and then dragged Targon as gently as he could across
the cave. He arranged Anweh’s body so that they were lying next to
each other.

“
Thanks…” Targon
said,
turning his head to face Anweh. A tear rolled down his cheek. “I’m
here, little blossom. I’m right beside you.”

Targon reached for Anweh
, entwining both their fingers; his hand clutched hers in a
final embrace. She looked so peaceful.

Enrig saw something flicker in the
Captain’s eyes, like a wind draft that had suddenly
vanished, leaving them blank.

T
he boy forced
himself to stop sobbing and wiped his face, sniffing heavily. He
found Serak’s backpack and the torch fuel within it. Carefully, as
if tending precious artifacts, he dropped some of it over every
corpse, except Balcazar’s, then used the torch to light them
all.

With several pyres burning
around him, he collected as many Glowstone arrows and
daggers as he could pack, and used one of them to remove a fang, a
claw and a patch of scaly hide, from the fallen Dragon.

He took one last glance at the
chamber, where the Dragon Dodgers burned around their mighty prey
and headed towards the exit.

Morning had already come. The sun
peered between two mountain peaks, shedding light upon the whole
valley; the tiny silhouette of a Dragon glided over the horizon,
searching for prey; and a thick mist streamed bellow, covering the
forest.

Enrig took a deep breath. The Surface
was a vast, sprawling place and he had a long way to
Run.

The story of the world of Arkhemia continues
soon.

Please don’t forget to leave a review. It
can mean a lot for an up and coming author.

Follow
my
Facebook page
,
website
or subscribe
to my
newsletter
for up to
date information on upcoming releases, extra content like maps and
much more.