Flight of the Dragon (The Chronicles of Dragon, Series 2, Book 5 of 10) (Tail of the Dragon) (6 page)

Nath and Brenwar moved north at a brisk pace.

“I don’t think your father should be hard to find.”

“Why do you say that?”

“He’s too big to hide. Someone or something will have seen him.” Brenwar grumbled, “Besides, Balzurth would never get himself into a situation he couldn’t handle.”

“No, but he’s not himself. Not since he cured Sasha. I saw darkness in his eyes when it happened.”

“Your father will be fine.” Brenwar stroked his beard. “I’m certain of it.”

“Of course you are,” Nath replied.

There wasn’t much else for him to say. Part of him didn’t want to help—not because he didn’t love his father. He did. But in the back of his mind, Nath kept thinking maybe he should be working on something else. For one thing, he needed to find out who Laedorn and Uurluuk’s assassin was. Every elf and dwarf, aside from his friends, thought it was him. There were the titans to worry about, too. He needed to stop them. They and the giants had taken over every town they had passed. The world was a disaster. Evil had it by the throat again.

“Brenwar, what do you think I should do? I’m not even sure I should be looking for him at the moment. You said it yourself: he knows what he’s doing. But … I don’t fully believe that in this case.”

“We’ll find him. Besides, wherever he is, we’ll find the heart of the trouble. You’re kind of like him in that manner.” A pair of deer bounded through the woods right in front of them and vanished into the brush. “See, a good sign.”

“Deer crossing one’s path is not a good sign. It’s just deer crossing a path.” Nath took his scabbard filled with Fang from his back and lay it on the ground. He sat down.

Brenwar came to a stop and looked down at him. The dwarf had plenty of recent scuffs and scars to show for himself. A gash in his leg. New dents peppering his breastplate. A wurmer’s claw marks in the leather of his tunic arms. “What are you doing on your backside? We need to go.”

“Go where?”

Shaking his war hammer, the dwarf said, “To the heart of the fight!”

Nath huffed. “That’s a fine idea, except we don’t know where the heart of the fight is.” He grabbed a pine cone and slung it hard into the woods. “It’s hard to fight an enemy we can’t find.”

“What are you talking about? They’re giants. Huge! They aren’t hiding. They’re out in the wide open. We’re the best trackers in the world. How can we not find them?”

“I’m not as much of a tracker as I used to be. Guzan!” Nath held up his missing hand.” What am I supposed to do with half of my hand missing? The enemy gets stronger. I get whittled away a hunk at a time.”

“You’ll get used to it.” Brenwar scratched his nose with his skeleton fingers. “Besides, you should be tired of looking like you’ve never been in a fight before. Heavy scars put the fear in people.”

“I know.” With a stick, Nath stirred patterns in the ground. His thoughts were heavy. Something inside of him just didn’t feel right. “Brenwar, do you ever feel like sometimes I go about things the wrong way?”

“Like how?”

“Well, like fighting. I feel like maybe I’m always doing it the hard way.”

“Fighting’s not supposed to be easy.” Brenwar huffed. “If it was easy, it wouldn’t be any fun.”

“I just feel like I’m working harder and not smarter. I mean, is the fate of the world only up to a few of us? Shouldn’t we have more help? We can’t count on the elves and dwarves, because they’re hunting us. Leaves us with the humans and halflings. Maybe some gnomes.”

“Har!”

“Why just us? There has to be a smarter way to go about things. I like to fight. I love to fight. Not only do I want to fight harder than ever before, but I feel like I need to fight smarter as well. What am I doing wrong?”

Eyeing Mortuun, Brenwar spun the great hammer in his hands. “I’ve been fighting and feuding in one way or another for hundreds of years, Nath. I’ve never fought with anybody like you. You have instincts only a few who ever lived had. Trust your instincts. What do they tell you?”

Nath brushed his hair from his eyes. “They tell me I need more help than you and me.” He looked at what was left of his missing hand. “Clearly.”

“If you need help, then ask for it.”

“I can’t drag Bayzog and Ben back into this. Did you see them? They looked like a bull dragon chewed them up and spat them out. No, I’ve asked plenty from them. I’ve asked plenty from you. I’m tired of seeing my friends hurt.”

“You can’t protect them always, Nath. They’re in this fight too. But they aren’t the only friends you have. And you have family, too.” Brenwar took a quick look up into the sky. “Lots of family.”

Nath lifted his chin. Puffy white clouds with gray at the bottom drifted through the rich blue sky. Flocks of birds crossed his line of sight and disappeared into the great beyond.

I sure miss flying.

“Are you saying I should call for the dragons?”

“No, I was thinking you should call out for the dwarves.” Brenwar puffed his moustache out. “Of course I mean the dragons!”

Nath eyed him.

The dwarf’s chin dipped. “Sorry, Your Highness.”

“It’s fine. Any other suggestions?”

“Maybe Fang has some answers. He’s a friend as well, is he not?”

Nath ran his fingers over the finely crafted scabbard. The leather over the wood was weathered and soft. He partially drew the weapon. The dragon-headed crossguards were exquisite. Each of the dragon’s eyes had perfect little gemstones in them, ruby and emerald. There was a living sparkle on both of them. Only recently had Nath been able to figure out how to call upon the sword’s abilities. He’d summoned vibrations, fire, ice, and even teleported Nath forward in time. Sometimes Fang even did as Nath asked, but most of the time he still didn’t.

Sword crossed over his lap, Nath held the handle firmly. “What other mysterious powers do you think Fang has?”

Combing his skeleton fingers through his beard, Brenwar suggested, “Why don’t you ask him?”

If any friend of Nath’s had been neglected, it was Fang. His sword had bailed him out as much as anybody. He slid the magnificent blade all the way from its sheath. The brilliant steel showed like silver. He could see the sky above in the metal. Nath felt a little guilty. Perhaps he should have taken more time getting to know Fang. Training, talking, or something. He said to the blade, “Fang, I’m sorry for any neglect, and I hope you’ll forgive me, friend.” He gave Brenwar a quick glance and continued. “Fang, will you help me find Father?”

Selene’s eyes cracked open. She was in a glorious domed room with wondrous murals of dragons and the lands of Nalzambor filling the walls. Every scene looked real, as if she were standing right there. Stiff limbed, she rolled off the bed of satin pillows in which she lay. She swung her feet onto the floor. The bed was so soft and deep she could barely get out of it.

Where am I?

It was a question she asked herself, but she was certain she knew the answer. She was in Dragon Home—or, to its enemies, the Mountain of Doom. The dizzying display of surrounding artistry left her head a little woozy.

How did I get here?

The last thing she remembered was fighting alongside Nath. For some reason, it felt like a dream or something that had happened ages ago. She pushed herself up to her feet and traversed the mosaic floor. Each tiny tile was painted a different color, but overall it looked like a meadow filled with splendorous wildflowers in a multitude of colors. A breeze came from somewhere, and a gentle melody of music hummed in her ears. The environment was comfortable and soothing. It was clear she had been well cared for. But what had happened? She rubbed her head.

Perhaps something smote me from behind. I must have been blindsided, but I feel fine.

She moved about the room, violet eyes straining to see where the exit might be. It only made sense that whoever had brought her to the chamber would not know of her awakening. Certainly someone would check on her at some point, but she didn’t want to wait. She moved toward the nearest painting on heavy feet. Her limbs seemed more cumbersome than normal. She stretched her back and rolled her shoulders.

I feel like I gained two hundred pounds.

She stood in front of one of the murals with her arms outstretched but not touching the wall. It was a painted green forest, with tall trees and a path splitting the middle, leading to a mountain range she recognized from the northeastern part of Nalzambor. She couldn’t see one single flaw in the painting. It appeared as real as if it were a window.

Whatever creature painted this is a marvel.

A little uncertain if the mural was real or not, she leaned forward to touch the wall with her fingertip.

It can’t be real. Selene, something’s missing.

Her breath quickened.

She touched the surface and let out a sigh. She felt the stone under the paint. “Ah, that’s better. For a moment I thought I was going to have to pinch myself.” Marveling at the extraordinary painting, she continued to run her hands over the surface of painted trees, leaves, and even the dirt path. But something in the scene wasn’t right or was missing.

Her gut twisted.

What is out of place here?

She ran her black-scaled fingers over the smooth stone once more. The golden claw of her index finger pecked on the face of a brown squirrel nestled in the branches of one of the trees. It winked at her. Her brow furrowed.

“What in Nalzambor is going…” Her voice trailed out.

Her eyes became big as saucers, fixed on her scaly fingers.

She rotated her palm back and forth.

Her jaw hung.

She lifted her arms and gazed.

Coal-black scales covered her from her fingertips to her elbows and beyond. “Great Guzan!”

She’d transformed, like Nath had. Her arms were sleek and marvelous. There was power in them too. She brought her tail around and draped it over her shoulder. She stroked it with a caressing hand and smiled. “I’m glad you remain. I wonder what else has changed.” Her fingers found her face, touching around the eyes, cheeks, and chin. The soft flesh of a human was underneath, but she still wasn’t sure. She lifted up her lavender-and-white lace gown, revealing her legs. They had scales on them. Even her abdomen did. Not all over, but mostly. She jumped up. Her feet propelled her so high her head almost hit the sky-painted ceiling.

“Oh, Nalzambor, is this right? Have I become a dragon again?” She tossed her head from side to side. Her jet-black hair was still there. “I need a mirror.” She searched the room, but there were only the bed and the murals. On the floor she noted a pond of clear water. It looked so real she swore she would be able to see her reflection in it, but that was impossible. It was just a mosaic. On a hunch, she took a knee and gazed. Her reflection appeared on the surface of the water. She gasped, “Huh!”

Her face was what it had always been as a human. Her high cheeks and pale skin contrasted well with her maroon lips. She was filled with relief—and disappointment. This was nothing quite like having the full power of a dragon, but at least she had more scales—and they were exquisite.

She caught another image appearing behind her in the reflection. She twisted around and gasped. It was Grahleyna, Nath’s mother. She was beautiful on beautiful, and in the form of a woman. But scales, gold and white with hints of red, adorned her limbs where they weren’t covered in silky robes, like jewelry.

“How do you feel, Selene?”

“Grahleyna,” she answered, taking a bow. “I-I don’t know exactly. Why am I here?”

Brushing the honey locks of wavy hair aside from her shoulder, Nath’s mother replied, “You fell into a dragon’s slumber quite some time ago. Do you feel rested?”

“Dragon slumber?” Selene took a seat on the bed and put her face in her hands. “How long have I been asleep? Please don’t tell me the world has turned upside down again.” She recalled moving forward in time on account of Fang’s transportation, and she was aware of the many long slumbers Nath had fallen into in his lifetime. Looking up at the dragon queen, she said, “Please don’t say a century, please.”

Grahleyna let out a delightful laugh and sat down beside Selene. “No, nothing like that. Weeks, I believe. Months, perhaps. Barely a nap.”

Selene let out a sigh. “So, what happened? Why am I here?”

“Nath had Sansla Libor bring you here for your protection. He went through an awful lot to have you rescued.”

“Rescued?”

“From the nuurg, a strange sort of giant breed which now plagues the lands.” Grahleyna studied her gold fingernails, which Selene now saw were peppered with flecks as white as snow. Nothing was out of place with the dragon queen. She was perfect. “They’ve run amok, the giants have. How do you like your new scales?”

“So I was kidnapped? Where?”

“Oh, you’ll have to have Sansla explain to you. I’ve been rather busy in the absence of Balzurth. The males of our kind,” Grahleyna nudged Selene’s shoulder with her shoulder. “They’re drawn to danger, and nothing makes them more happy—or miserable—than carrying the world on their shoulders.”

“So where is Nath?” Selene asked with a frown. She was concerned about the answer.

“I can’t say, Selene. He, like his father, could be anywhere. No doubt they are trying to take down Eckubahn before Eckubahn takes down them.” Grahleyna took Selene by the hand and squeezed it. “I’m worried about both of them. Right now, it’s taking everything I have to stay here and keep Dragon Home safe. Our kind are restless without Balzurth in his home. And as much as I hate to admit it, they don’t mind me the same as they mind him.” Her beautiful face, which had a dragon-like quality about it, frowned. “And I feel there is something very, very wrong.”

Selene patted Grahleyna’s hand. “I can help, can’t I?”

With a nod, the dragon queen said, “You couldn’t have woken up at a better time. Come.” Grahleyna led her to a mural shaped like a stone tunnel going into a mountain. They passed right through the opening and walked up a spiraling walkway illuminated by the torches painted on the cavern walls. They walked for miles, maybe leagues, until they arrived at the top of Dragon Home. A stiff wind tore through both women’s long locks as they stood just beneath the clouds.

“It’s quite a view, isn’t it?”

The top of Dragon Home was the highest point in all of Nalzambor. The view was crystal clear, and whether it was from her own power or something radiating from the rock on which she stood, Selene could see for miles, leagues even. Her eyes were more open then they’d ever been before.

Grahleyna pointed north. “What do you see?”

Over a league away were giants by the hundreds. With huge axes, they chopped down trees. There was fire. Great fires in the middle of a camp made up of the giants. Huge rocks made for the bellowing of forges and furnaces. There, they made tremendous weapons of iron and steel. And there were men, like toddlers among them, following their every command. Giants by the hundreds, orcs and men by the thousands. In the distant hilltops she could see more were coming. An army building like Selene had never seen.

“What are they doing?” she asked.

“They are preparing for an invasion,” Grahleyna replied.

“Where?”

“Here.”