Hatch (The Dragons Of Laton) (30 page)

“Well, your Majesty, if you will excuse me, I’m a tired old woman and I need rest.”

Ammon’s jaw dropped to his chest. “I’m not…! Excuse me ma’am, but you have me confused with…”

The old woman waved him off as she shuffled out the door, but as she left she cackled.

“Must go home and have a talk. Yes, a talk! We have much to do for these changes to take place.”

Exasperated, Erik flopped back in his chair. “Apparently women are just as difficult to comprehend in this country as our own!” He lifted a mug of water and stared into it. “Well, men, do you make of this?”

***

Frustrated, Ammon kicked at a small stone as he picked his way through the rubble strewn across the street from a collapsed building while Fulgid chased squirrels across the sunlit cobblestones. Erik decided that since the old woman had shown an interest in Ammon, he was probably their best chance to learn what happened to the City of Laton. On this cloudless day, he could have thought of any number of things he’d rather do than spend time listening to the rants of an insane old woman.

The truth was that he really wanted to look for Boris. The river couldn’t be far from the city, Ellis’ huge body would be easy to spot from the air and Boris would be somewhere nearby. A lump formed in his throat again as it did every time he thought about that day. Boris and Ellis deserved a ceremony at least, but Erik said it would have to wait until the palace was settled. He kicked another stone angrily. Instead he was being sent to see a crazy old woman instead of doing something meaningful!

The dilapidated house near the north gate was pretty easy to find from the directions that Theo had given him. There was no front door. In fact, there wasn’t much left of the front of the building. A good portion of the wall facing the street had buckled and collapsed, and the rest of the building listed precariously to the left. Dark shadows loomed behind the windowless holes framed with broken and missing shutters. It wasn’t clear what held the whole façade from collapsing in on itself, but he felt sure a strong wind might end its existence.

He hesitantly stepped over the rotted remains of a wooden beam that lay across the threshold and stood inside looking up at the sky through the roof. He had lived in worse conditions out of necessity, but he was puzzled why the woman chose this house. There were certainly other buildings in the city in better condition, although none as close to the gate as this one.

Fulgid scampered past to an inner doorway that was still somewhat intact. It hung at an odd angle, and the latch had long since fallen away and been replaced with a knotted rope. He took a deep breath and knocked carefully, half expecting it to fall from its hinges. There was a scuffle inside and a moment later the old woman peered through a gap in the door suspiciously before her eyes lit up with delight. Heaving the door open, the old woman nearly pulled it off its rotted frame as it scraped along the warped floorboards.

She stood aside and motioned quickly for him to enter. “Come in! Come in! Oh and you brought your little dragon! How delightful! Sit down right there and I’ll bring you some tea!”

She motioned towards a lopsided stool beside an equally unsteady table. Like the exterior of the house, everything within the room seemed on the verge of collapse. He eased himself onto the stool and it creaked dangerously under his weight, and waited impatiently. Sasha pushed a cracked mug filled with steaming tea in front of him and sat down with her own mug, slurping it noisily. Fulgid busied himself by climbing in and around the sparse furniture, sniffing among the numerous shelves that lined the walls from floor to ceiling. Hundreds of bottles and jars were crammed into the room from one end to the other, filling the shelves and every nook and cranny.

Ammon eyed the tea doubtfully and cleared his throat. “Ma’am, King Erik asked me to come here. We have some questions to ask you about this city…”

Fulgid jumped up onto one of the lower shelves, rattling jars and knocking a few to the floor. Ammon started to scold him, but the old lady held up a withered hand and motioned for him to be silent. Turning on her stool she watched him with keen interest, occasionally cackling gleefully.

“It has been many years since a young dragon has graced my home! See how he sniffs? He smells it! He knows it’s here somewhere! You watch! He’ll find it soon enough I wager! Hee hee!”

Ammon sighed. Fulgid might bring down the whole wall as well as everything on the shelves, but the old woman certainly didn’t seem concerned about it. Fortunately, the shelf was low enough that the jars fell harmlessly to the floor without breaking. What she expected Fulgid to find in that mess was beyond him! He lifted the mug and cautiously took a sip. He was fairly certain there was no useful information to get out of Sasha; the woman was obviously afflicted with dementia. Living alone for decades in these ruins probably caused it.

A burst of honey enveloped his tongue as the tea passed his lips and his eyebrows rose in surprise. It was a welcome change from the black brew Kyle served him each morning, and he wondered if he could obtain some from the old woman. At least then his trip here wouldn’t be a complete waste of his time. For now he contented himself to sip it quietly and let the old woman delight in Fulgid’s activities.

Jar after jar rolled to the floor before Fulgid found a particularly large one sealed tightly with wax. With one quick swipe of his claw the dragon broke open the seal and the old woman clapped her hands.

“Oh how clever! He has the Gift of Finding doesn’t he!”

After unsuccessfully trying to get his head into the narrow neck of the jar, Fulgid pushed it off the shelf and it rolled into the middle of the floor.

The old woman leaned close to Ammon and whispered. “Now that he’s found it, lets see if he knows what to do with it!”

Ammon put down his cup and watched Fulgid leap down from the shelf. “Do with what? What is it he’s found?”

The woman put a bony finger to her lips and hushed at him. “Just watch!”

The little dragon circled the container once before putting both front feet into the opening. Within one quick jerk he sent the jar spinning into the wall, shattering it into pieces. Ammon could see clearly now what was inside as the light reflected off the half dozen or so tiny crystals that lay on the floor in a heap.

“Fulgid! NO!”

The dragon had already crushed one in his jaws and was swallowing the shards. Ammon tried to get up from the stool, but dozens of the jars had rolled under his feet and he stumbled. As he regained his footing, the old woman reached across the table and grabbed his sleeve with an iron grip.

“Stop being foolish, he knows what he’s doing!”

Bewildered, Ammon’s eyebrows rose in disbelief. “Knows what he’s doing? He’s just a baby! Those shards will cut his insides to ribbons!”

The woman’s grip held fast. “You don’t know much about dragons do you? Their insides are just as tough as the outside! Besides, those crystals are important to a dragons diet, I only wish I had more!”

Ammon eased himself back onto the stool. “Important? How?”

The old woman rolled her eyes as she released her grip. “Don’t they teach young knights anything about dragons where you come from? How do you expect him to protect himself from Kala-Azar if you don’t let him have calentar?”

Ammon looked at Fulgid happily chewing the last crystal. Deep in his mind the bubble glowed like a ray of sun as the golden voice in his mind chimed. “Trust Fulgid!”

Ammon gritted his teeth. “I do trust you, it’s her I’m not sure about!” He jerked his thumb at Sasha who sat with her cup half to her lips.

She looked quizzically at Ammon, then at Fulgid. Slowly, she put her cup back down. “You don’t know about calentar crystals?”

Ammon shook his head. “I’ve only been linked for about a month and only by accident. I’m just learning about dragons and this is the first time I’ve ever heard of that Kala-whatever, but I’ve seen those crystals before in the mountains. There was a huge cavern filled with them.”

The loud snort from the frail old woman made him look up from watching Fulgid. The shock on her face was evident, even beneath the years of wrinkles. “You’ve never…heard…of Kala-Azar and you have an entire cavern of calentar?”

Sighing, Ammon shook his head. “No, I’ve never heard of it. I’m only here because King Erik wants to know what happened to this city. You’re the only one here we can ask! What happened?”

The old woman stared silently at Fulgid as he sniffed out the last bits of the crystal shards. “How many dragons came with you?”

Ammon shrugged. “About two hundred I think.”

Sasha’s hand slapped the table so hard that it made Ammon jump. “Bring me to your king, I must speak with him at once! The danger is great to us all!”

Ammon led the way back to the palace. Surprisingly, the old woman kept pace with him, pushing him to walk faster. It still took them nearly an hour to reach the Erik’s chambers, and when the page that announced them let them pass, both Erik and Theo stood waiting.

Erik seemed annoyed at being disturbed as he shoved papers aside at the desk and sat down. “Well, Ammon, have you learned much from our friend here?”

Sasha pointed a finger at Erik, her old voice creaked in a high pitch as she spoke. “Tell me what you know about the Kala-Azar and calentar!”

Erik and Theo exchanged glances and Erik shrugged. “Are the Kala-Azar the people who drove out the residents of Laton?”

Sasha slowly sank into a chair, placing her head into her hands. Softly she whispered. “No, not again, please not again!”

Erik looked up at Ammon. “Would you please explain to me what this is about?”

Embarrassed, Ammon stammered an apology and took the old woman by the arm and tried to pull her from the chair. Maybe he could get her back to her shack and that would be the end of it. With any luck Erik wouldn’t think he was too much of an idiot!

Sasha slapped his hands away and looked up fiercely. “You have no idea what I’m talking about do you? None of you do!”

Silence filled the room before Erik sighed and pulled the papers on the table back in front of him. “Ammon, would you be so kind as to escort our…lady…back to her home? We have much work to do.”

Sasha stepped closer to Erik, her voice on the verge of screeching. “You must know! How could you not know about the slugs?”

Ammon gently but firmly pulled on her arm and half dragged her to the door, her voice continued to get louder and louder in a fevered pitch.

“You’ll all die before winter! Listen to me, please! You must listen!”

The page closed the door behind them as Ammon led her down the hallway. Outside the palace Sasha wrested her arm away from Ammon and grumbled under her breath. Turning sharply she faced Ammon with a bony finger pointed inches from his nose.

“You! You must learn and teach the others! It’s the only way they’ll listen! In the library of the palace you must find the history, but you must work quickly! Yes, very quickly! Who knows how long before they wake!”

Ammon walked next to the old woman, listening politely as Fulgid bounded from building to building chasing squirrels. He had no intentions of doing any of the insanity the woman was ranting about. Erik asked him to escort her home and that’s all he intended to do. As they rounded a corner past the rubble of a collapsed wall, Fulgid ran past into the shell of an empty building across the street.

A blood-curdling scream erupted from the shadows of the house and Ammon jerked to a stop as Sasha gripped his forearm tightly, her face pale. “No! By the dragons teeth, no!”

Fulgid slowly backed from the building with his back arched. With each step his claws raked the ground and ripped gouges deep into the paving stones. He growled fiercely through razor sharp fangs, and his eyes glowed white with intense fury. Ammon drew his sword and took one step before Sasha pulled him back.

“Fool! You cannot fight it with that!” she nodded at his sword.

Ammon pulled his arm free. “Fight what? What is in there?”

Fulgid growled even louder as something emerged from the doorway. A gray head as big as a melon emerged from the shadows and moved slowly into the street. A pair of long black mandibles protruded from the sides of its gaping maw and clicked as they opened and closed. Its fat, bulbous body was as big around as the chest of a horse and it rippled as it moved like a gelatinous bag of water. The color of wet slate, it was as long as Ammon was tall, and the reeking scent of rotting meat permeated the air. The legless body slid forward like a giant worm, its mandibles clicking as it stared at Fulgid with unblinking black eyes.

Gagging at the putrid smell, Ammon pointed his sword at its head. “What
is
that thing?”

Sasha looked up at Ammon, fear in her wide eyes. “Kala-Azar!”

With surprising speed, the slug suddenly lunged forward at Fulgid who quickly leapt to the side, raking the flank of the creature with his claws. Long shallow slices appeared on its bulging rolls, and as Fulgid neared the back of the creature, he sank his teeth into the stubby tail. Like a fat whip, the short tail thrust upward and flung Fulgid tumbling through the air and into the side of a dilapidated building. The wall teetered unsteadily for a brief moment before it crumbled down on top of the dragon, covering him with stones.

With a shout, Ammon leapt forward with his sword high above his head and brought it down on the creature’s back with all his might. The gray blade bounced back in his hands so hard he barely kept his grip. He stepped back again in disbelief. It was as if he’d struck a thick piece of leather with a stick, the sharp sword hadn’t even left a mark.

The grotesque head turned towards Ammon, mandibles open wide, and its slug like body rippled as it flowed towards him. Without taking his eyes off the creature, he yelled to Sasha. “How do I kill it?”

Sasha’s voice was filled with terror. “You can’t kill it with a sword! It will only die with fire!”

Ammon’s brain raced frantically. Fire? Where would he get fire quickly? He had to do something, Fulgid may be hurt under that pile of rubble and he wasn’t about to let some slimy…thing eat him! The slug advanced towards him slowly, and Ammon backed up until his back was against the wall of a building. The only warning he had was a tiny twitch of the lumpy tail, he faked a move to the left before jumping right and hit the ground on his shoulder before rolling to his feet. Two loud thumps echoed behind him, and as he turned he saw two large holes in the wall, one where he’d been standing and another to the left of where he’d been. The edges of the holes sizzled like boiling oil as they steamed.

Sasha yelled to him again. “The saliva is like acid! Don’t let it touch you!”

Ammon moved to the middle of the street and faced the giant slug. A few rocks in the pile from the collapsed wall tumbled away as Fulgid climbed out, his eyes shining like white hot metal. Ammon could feel the fury building inside the dragon as Fulgid deliberately stalked forward. Ammon called to him. “Fulgid! Back away!”

Fulgid snarled, and the Kala-Azar turned its ugly maw back towards the angry little dragon. Fulgid stood up on his hind legs, head back and mouth open, and the slug shot forward with incredible speed.

There was a sudden flash and Ammon was knocked onto his back by a tremendous blast. Instinctively he raised his hands to protect his face and felt his palms begin to blister. In seconds it was over and he sat up, blinking against the heat coming up from the street. As his eyes focused, he could see a massive scorch mark that blackened the entire area where the Kala-Azar had been. Paving stones hissed and cracked with loud pops and thin tendrils of smoke drifted up from where weeds once pushed up between them. Fulgid nonchalantly walked up and sat next to him as Sasha hurried to his side.

Standing over him with hands firmly planted on each hip, she looked down and said, “Now do you believe the danger?”

Painfully climbing to his feet, Ammon looked around for his sword. The blast had knocked it from his hands and thrown it several paces away. He retrieved it and slid it back into the scabbard then dusted bits of ash from his armor. The pungent smell of burnt hair and sulfur filled his nostrils and stung his eyes.

“What caused it to explode like that?”

Sasha cackled. “HA! The Kala-Azar didn’t explode! Your little golden dragon incinerated the filthy vermin! I thought you said you’d never heard of calentar?”

Ammon rubbed his forehead with blistered fingers. “I haven’t. How could Fulgid have caused that explosion?”

“Humph!” Sasha hobbled down the street, her walking stick tapping the blackened stones in rhythm to her step. “Come, I have a salve for those burns.”

His mind reeling, Ammon followed, keeping a wary eye on the vacant doorways. What caused that thing to explode? There was nothing flammable around and certainly nothing that would burn that hot and that quickly! The increasing pain of his burns soon took over his thoughts, and by the time they arrived at Sasha’s home he could think of little else.

Fidgeting uncomfortably on the rickety stool, Ammon closed his eyes and clenched his teeth while the old woman rubbed a clear, foul smelling paste on the burns. Despite the odor, the salve had an immediate cooling effect, and the discomfort eased considerably. As he relaxed, he opened his eyes and was surprised to see a small hooded figure eyeing him suspiciously from the doorway. Shorter than Ammon and with facial features obscured beneath the hood, he guessed the figure to be a boy barely into his teenage years. The deerskin shirt and breeches hung loosely on a thin frame, and slung from his shoulder was a hunters bow and quiver.

Mumbling incoherently to herself as she applied the poultice to Ammon’s hands, Sasha suddenly looked over her shoulder at the boy “El, get me the box of bandages.”

El slipped the bow from his shoulder and propped it against the wall before pulling a brown box from the shelf and handed it to the old woman. Ammon began to wonder how many others were hidden in the city as Sasha wrapped his hands. Suddenly it dawned on him that if the number of jars, pots, and bottles in the room were filled with various medications, then Sasha must have enough to treat a small army. Perhaps Sasha wasn’t as crazy as she appeared. She may have avoided answering their questions to protect the residents still living in the city. If she thought they were invaders, it was reasonable to assume others would too and would remain hidden until they were assured of their own safety.

Satisfied that every blister was covered, Sasha wiped her hands on the tattered remains of her clothes and stepped back as Fulgid leapt into Ammon’s lap to investigate the wounds. Ammon flexed his hands gingerly. He could still move them but with the bandages and poultice he’d have difficulty handling his sword.

The old woman pulled down a couple large woven sacks from a shelf and tossed it to the boy. “We’re moving to the palace. I’ll need all the jars from the third shelves, we’ll come back for the rest later.”

Without a word, the boy started filling the sack with everything off of the shelf. Sasha turned back towards Ammon and lifted his chin between her thumb and forefinger. Speaking over her shoulder she announced.

“Too bad you didn’t see him before the burns, he’s got a pretty face to be sure.”

The boy stiffened for a brief second with a jar in his hand before snorting and continued.

Despite his bandaged hands, Ammon carried two large bags filled with liniments over his shoulders and the boy carried two more. Fulgid walked beside Ammon carrying a small jar in his teeth and the old woman walked ahead of them with pockets bulging. When they arrived at the palace, Theo met them in the hallway, and Ammon briefly explained what happened and showed his wounded hands.