Fireclaws - Search for the Golden (3 page)

I lifted an eyelid and looked into the swirling round orb underneath. There was no recognition or change; it was as if they were in a deep dream state from which they couldn’t wake. With no better idea, I examined each of them. I poked and prodded like I would for a lizard or alligator. Oddly, despite their lethargy, both seemed to be in fine condition, good skin tone, scales still firmly affixed, eyes still moist. Perfect examples of dragons from what I could tell, except they were unfailingly asleep.

With a deep sigh, I retraced my steps. Half an hour later, I was back in Alex’s and Maya’s room, explaining what I found to the King and Queen, Rosa, Alera, Nia, and Captain Higs.

“It’s got to be magic,” I said. “They look fine to me otherwise.”

“The problem is,” Rosa added thoughtfully, “we don’t know enough about dragons to even know if this is abnormal or not. For all we know, they may have to hibernate periodically.”

“Aren’t any of your books helpful, Rosa? Dusk didn’t say anything about hibernating.” Higs said quietly, a twinge of desperation in his voice. He had been holding his head in his hands listening to all of this. I felt a stab of pity for him. He and Dusk had been together for over five years now and were nearly inseparable. It was a strange relationship to be sure; Higs was a normal human, she a young dragon. The difference in their potential life spans was staggering, but still, it somehow worked for them. The guard captain’s sincere devotion was obvious.

Rosa shook her head. “I have almost nothing on dragons. We didn’t even know that egg temperature can change the type of dragon that hatches until Dawn and Dusk’s mother revealed it to Alex. Given the history, dragons are understandably cautious about giving out any lifestyle information.”

“Ryliss has already shown Nia the entrance,” Alera said softly. “I recommend we get Hons to expand the opening and cut some stairs down there so we can at least monitor their health until we figure this out. If they aren’t even rousing to drink, they could begin suffering from dehydration soon. I know the girls probably wouldn’t appreciate us entering their nest, but we can’t let them die either.”

“I will watch over them,” Higs volunteered. “I’m not afraid, they both know me. Please, I need to do something!”

Alera agreed, brushing her wavy blonde hair back behind her ears, and added, “I will start monitoring their health daily, as well. But it doesn’t address the root cause, why they are asleep and unresponsive in the first place. We need some answers…”

“Well, there’s only one thing to do then,” Nia declared. “We need to find another dragon and ask it.”

“Great idea,” I scoffed mildly. “Unless they’re evil and want to eat you, they aren’t exactly going to be sitting in the town square with a tip jar and a sign around their head reading, ‘Ask me anything.’ It’s going to take some serious digging to track one down.” As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I realized my mistake…Yup, everyone in the room was looking at me with hopeful expressions.

Well, that was how it all started. A fast bath and a change of clothes later, Rosa was shooing me and Naurakka through a portal to the capital of Elcance, the last reported location of a golden dragon. Sadly, I spent a month in the city tracking down every lead and hint of the golden’s whereabouts to no avail. No one had seen or heard of the dragon since the months leading up to the end of the war more than five years earlier. Even the most optimistic natives assumed she was long dead.

With no plan, I started fanning out to the many small villages outside the capital, and two weeks later - still nothing. And that’s how I found myself at the end of my rope sitting here in this tavern. Part of me wanted to gracefully accept defeat and just go home, but then I thought of the looks of disappointment that would earn me from my friends back at Sky Raven. Still, six weeks and I had nothing to show for it. I stared into the dregs of my cider and had made the decision to chuck it all and head back, when I felt a touch on my arm.

Jolted out of my reverie, I whirled around expecting to see the soldier who had tried to accost me earlier making another try. Instead, it was the inept bard from the corner of the room; he had slung his instrument over his back and was standing next to me expectantly.

His eyes widened at my reaction and he backed up a half step, his hands splayed open to show he meant no harm. Recovering quickly, he flashed me a disarming grin and slid onto the stool next to me.

“You,” he said genially, “I find fascinating.”

I looked him up and down, cataloging what I saw. Human, probably my human equivalent in age. Crow wing black hair, mostly unkempt. Bits of leaf litter in it attested to the fact that he most likely had been sleeping out in the open. Blue eyes, not Naurakka blue, but lighter and more calming. Worn, but good quality, serviceable clothes, told me he was used to a better lifestyle. No obvious weapon and the purse on his belt lay anemically thin at his side. I sensed no malice in him, so I allowed myself a reined-in smirk.

“Sir, I believe your pickup lines and your music share a commonality,” I said, tilting my head slightly. “Both need work.”

He winced with high drama, and then with a self-depreciating smile, he nodded in agreement. “Well, the life of a tavern warbler was probably not what my dear departed parents would have wished for me, I’ll grant you that.” He smiled and extended his hand. “My name is Kerrik, My Lady.”

I stared at him for a second, trying to decide if it wouldn’t be better for me to just leave. But I hadn’t had a decent conversation about anything but dragons in so long that I decided I needed the diversion. Besides, I would be leaving in a few minutes, never to return anyway. I shook his hand firmly and responded, “Ryliss.”

“Ryliss?” Kerrik repeated, rolling the sound around on his tongue. “That almost sounds like an elf name.”

“Well, my parents were very fond of elves… Pray tell, Master Bard, what do you find so fascinating about an ordinary local girl?”

He laughed. “First, I don’t believe for a minute that you’re ordinary at all.”

“Oh, how so?”

He smiled, displaying nice even teeth. Holding up his hand expressively, he ticked off a thought on each finger. “First, you appear to be a local girl, but Karll has never seen you before and he has lived here all his life. By the way, he is also the de facto mayor of the surrounding community for a ten-mile radius.

“Second, other than Karll’s wife, you are the only woman in this bar full of rough men, yet you have no fear or concern about you in the slightest. And aside from a boot knife, you don’t appear armed…very curious.

“Third, I have spent most of my waking hours in this tavern for the past week, and old Bert has barely raised his head from his spot in front of the fire for any reason. But a few minutes in your presence and he’s up, happy as a lark, and wagging his tail ready to play fetch. Very strange, also.

“Four, if you are not a local girl, then you are traveling exceedingly light. I see no rub marks on your shoulders from a heavy pack, nor do you walk like someone who spent a great deal of time on a horse recently.

“And five,” he said with an impish grin, “the most telling of all. I have been speaking to you for over five minutes now, and you haven’t succumbed to my obvious charms and swooned dead away in my arms yet.”

I snorted and pushed away my empty mug, swiveling slightly to face him. Reaching in my belt, I retrieved a half silver piece and slid it on the bar in front of him. “Most entertaining Master Bard, thank you. I think you would make more coin spinning fanciful tales such as you just told me than strumming that poorly-tuned lute on your back. Alas, as fascinating as this conversation is, I must be going.”

“Ryliss, wait,” he said, covering my hand with his. “I’m sorry if I came off as an ass. I’m pretty new to all this. The truth is, we need your help desperately!”

I jerked my hand away firmly and glared at him, but rather than cockiness or deception, I saw real concern in his face. “What are you talking about?” I demanded. “You know nothing about me!”

Just then, I heard a voice in my head.
“Ryliss.”
My name was drawn out in a long hissing sound.
“Many men and horses are coming.”

“Naurakka, what are you doing this close? I told you to stay safe in the forest!”
I sent back, my thoughts going in several directions at once.

“Warning you. They have a cage with people in it…you should flee…too many to kill…”

“This is hard to explain but…” Kerrik was babbling still, but I cut him off with a hand gesture and said curtly, “Armed men are approaching, I need to leave.”

He jumped off the stool in panic, and I saw real terror in his eyes. “Look, I’ve been waiting here all week for you to come in. I have a message for you, ‘If you seek the golden, you will help us!’” Not bothering to wait for a reply, he leaped up on the bar and swung his legs over. Hitting the floor running, he disappeared through the door into the kitchen.

“Too slow,”
Naurakka’s voice in my head intoned gravely.

Suddenly the door to the tavern slammed open, and a squad of heavily-armed bravos thundered into the room. Swords out, they moved quickly into position to cover most of the patrons with their weapons. More poured in taking up positions and dragging a bloodied up Karll with them.

I froze and tried to look small and harmless, but a couple of the off-duty soldiers slid back their chairs, stood up and angrily challenged the intrusion.

“Who the hell do you think you are? This is sovereign Elcance soil!”

The steel basket hilts of two cavalry swords connected just below the ears of both men and drove them to their knees, blood dripping from ragged scrapes. Instantly, several more of the intruders pinned the soldiers’ companions to their chairs with the tips of their swords.

“Shut your sod ugly faces, all of you,” One swordsman, who had the look of some kind of leader, shouted, waving his sword.

I took a few seconds to look them over curiously; they certainly weren’t formal army troops. None of their armor or clothing matched, nor were their weapons standardized. No unit insignia or colors marked them as belonging to any cohesive band of soldiers. In short, they appeared to be brigands.

The door to the kitchen behind the bar burst open and Karll’s wife and Kerrik were marched out at sword point to the main tavern room by four swordsmen.

“Caught this one trying to sneak out the back way,” one of the newcomers growled, indicating the bard. He pushed Karll’s old wife roughly to the floor, causing some angry grumbling among the patrons.

The leader picked up a pitcher of ale from one of the tables and threw it against the upper stones of the fireplace, shattering it and sending the frothy brew all over the wall and floor. Point made, he continued.

“We are looking for any person or party accompanied by a young blind girl! Have any of you ‘travelers’ seen this child?” There was stone silence, followed by just a few odds and ends of uneasy muttering and shaking of heads. He looked at nearly everyone, his eyes boring into their faces looking for any trace of deception. Finally, he shook his head in disgust and muttered, “Fine, check them all anyway.”

One of his men standing near the main door opened it and shouted something to someone still outside. A few seconds later, a man in red-dyed traveling leathers and sporting a mid-length red cape, stalked into the room. He looked middle-aged for a human, whitish hair, mustachio, and a glyph symbol emblazoned on his tunic. His overall bearing was of a self-important peacock, but his eyes burned with either madness or something more sinister.

He carried a small black bag and walked directly to the large fireplace. Reaching into the sack, he pulled out a large onyx stone, which he displayed arrogantly to the crowd just before plunging it, and the hand holding it, into the hottest part of the fire.

This solicited a fair number of gasps from the onlookers and he grinned as he held it steady in the flames. I could see the off-duty soldiers looking at each other in the expectation that his hand would be burned to a crisp when he withdrew it. Finally, after a strong two minutes in the fire, he withdrew his hand and it was miraculously unscathed. The onyx, however, was glowing with an intense arcane red which I had seen before and never wanted to see again.

Suddenly, the stone flashed like a stroke of lightning in the room and a serpent’s eerie voice hissed out of it. “Command me or perish!” The peacock, who I could now safely assume was a wizard, brought the stone up to his lips and whispered some sing-song gibberish in a language I couldn’t follow. Instantly, the stone reverted back to its original shiny black appearance, and he started walking back and forth among the seated bar patrons, dramatically thrusting the rock in their faces as he passed.

Crap, demon magic! Whoever this guy was, he would be in for a rude meeting with King Alex someday. That is, if I manage to live to report it. Alex and Maya generally held to a hands-off approach when it came to neighboring kingdoms and rulers; however, the sole exception was anyone that trafficked in demon artifacts or summoning. Those individuals are taken care of personally, efficiently, and with no pity. My flesh still crawls when I think of some of the things I saw the night of the great battle at Sky Raven. It must never be repeated.

But for now, I had to consider my own situation as the wizard edged closer to the bar, still checking everyone with the stone. I had complete confidence that I would read as having no magical ability; after all, Alex’s mother, the Nova personification of magic, was the one who made me this way. But the scarf I wore to change my appearance was magical, and I had no way of knowing just what the demonic stone was capable of. Unfortunately, my options for escape were few, shape changing into a small bird or a rat immediately came to mind, but even those familiar forms took ten seconds or more. That was plenty of time for one of the swordsmen to run me through or capture me. I guess I would just have to count on the bluff.

The wizard separated from the bar crowd at the tables and beelined for me. So far, he hadn’t stopped or shown any indication that he had found anything. He was close enough for my nose to pick up his stench - yup, definitely a fire wizard - then suddenly Kerrik wrenched free of the collar-hold his guard had him in and bolted for the main door. With a roar of fury, one of the bravos closest to me shoved me roughly aside and tackled him as he passed by, bringing the bard down hard on the worn wood floor. Immediately, another three or so piled on, punching and kicking him into submission.

The wizard, previously focused on me, now diverted and followed the blood sport action. The bard was pulled to his feet, blood streaming from his nose and lips, as two of his guards secured his arms. Kerrik’s eyes got huge as the onyx stone got closer to him, and like a snake, the fire wizard’s arm shot out and stopped just inches from his face. Immediately, the onyx stone lit up like a blood red beacon.

“Ha, this one is a wizard, all right, and a fairly strong one! Bind him!” In a matter of seconds, they had slapped steel binders onto Kerrik’s wrists behind his back. He held his head down, defeated, the blood from his face dripping randomly on his boots. I got the impression he was purposely trying not to look at anyone, especially me. All that remained of his lute was the shoulder strap, back frame, and a few tangled strings. The rest of the instrument was in pieces on the hardwood floor. One of his guards took out a knife and cut the strap, casting the rest of it callously to the floor, as well.

The excitement of Kerrik’s folly had apparently broken the gravity of the situation, and the leader of the band called out, “Take him to the wagon and mount up. We’ve wasted enough time here.” Then he sheathed his own sword and crowded out the door on the heels of the men dragging the bard away. As they did so, Kerrik pretended to stumble and I saw him chance a single glance back in my direction. It was a scared pleading look, but there was also a hint of a self-satisfied smile as well.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kerrik

Damn, I hope I got through to her, at least enough to pique her interest, anyway. I spat out a mouthful of blood as I was frog-marched roughly up to a four-horse-drawn freight wagon. Sitting in its rough-hewn bed was a large iron cage with a single door and leaning disconsolately against the back wall was a man and a woman. Each had their hands pinioned behind their backs like mine. Neither was young, and judging from their clothes, I would guess they were farmers rather than wizards.