Strife In The Sky (Book 7) (17 page)

“You might as well sit. Have something to eat,” Snarggell said, tugging at his arm. “Enjoy our company before the lurker comes.”

Nath pulled away.

“I’m not here to chat. I’ve somewhere to be, and I’ll see this finished.”

“See what finished?” Snarggell asked.

“I’ve two demands. First, I need two more of these,” he said, holding the glowing stone up.

The gnomes reached into their aprons and each handed him a stone. The small haul made for plenty.

“I said two more,” Nath said, sticking the three for Otter Bone inside his jerkin. He tossed the others back. “Don’t be so zealous to drop your booty.”

They giggled at him and one another.

The tall bald one said, “What is your second request?”

“You will cease making any more stones, and you’ll destroy what you already have. And you’ll have to come with me.”

They froze. Their little gnarled hands twisted at their beards. Suddenly, they burst out laughing. Red-faced guffaws followed one right after the other. Two fell to their backs on the floor kicking. They laughed so loudly, it was resounding off the jaxite walls. This was one of the things dwarves hated about gnomes. They were always cheery and laughing.

Embarrassed and taken aback, Nath felt uneasiness seep into him. He had what he wanted. All he had to do was leave and jump for the river, but their laugher convinced him that wasn’t going to happen.

They all got up, grabbed their tools, and got back to work, talking and laughing back and forth with one another, leaving only him and Snarggell all alone.

“Your quest is foolish. Futile, my friend,” Snarggell said, stroking his hairy arms. “Nothing comes to the Floating City and lives for long. Just us gnomes.”

“You live.”

“Aye, we live, but we are cursed,” he said, frowning. “The lurker will kill us if we try to leave.”

“Or the dragons?”

“The dragons? Hah,” Snarggell laughed, “they fear the lurker just as much as any do. They come and collect the stones for Barnabus. Come.” Snarggell led him through the mines, stopping at a small well made of jaxite rocks. It was barley big enough for a cat to squeeze through. Dark colors swirled in the hole.

“We put the stones in here. On the other side, dragons pick up them up. They won’t come inside the cavern. Too dangerous. The lurker can be temperamental.”

Dragons didn’t fear anything except other dragons. What could be so bad that a dragon would fear it?

“Why you?”

“Why me, what?” Snarggell said.

“Why doesn’t someone else prepare the stones?”

“Hah! Only we
can
. We are crystal gnomes. Masters of precious stones. We work the blue rock and make it willing. It is our craft. But it still takes the hardest metals and magic to chip it. Most people don’t understand. This jaxite is harder, but especially hard when you don’t understand it. We do. We talk to it, and it talks to us.” He rubbed the skin on the back of his hand with his finger. “We aren’t blue for just any reason. We’re special.”

“What you’re doing is serving Barnabus. The stones are used for evil, to control the dragons. You’ll have to stop.”

“We cannot. It’s what we do. We’re here. We cannot leave.”

“And if you die?”

“They just bring more gnomes. Everyone is expendable.”

“Can more gnomes do it?” Nath said.

“Any crystal gnome can, with the right tools,” the gnome said, leading him back through the jaxite catacombs to where they had stood before. “We’ve always done this for the wizards, for generations. They were wise doing what they did. Cursing this city and freeing it from control. It worked for a long, long time, but Barnabus figured it out. The undead protect the city above, and the lurker is the guardian in the mines below. Barnabus made a deal with it.”

“What kind of deal?”

“They feed it.”

“Feed it what?”

“Whatever it wants, but mostly the river folk,” the gnome said, picking up his hammer and chisel, “but it gets a craving for other things from time to time. Elves, dwarves, gnolls, you name it. Horses, cattle, pixies. The dragons fetch them. The one reason why they roost like hawks in a nest. Sometimes it even feasts on the dragons themselves. That’s why they hate it.”  He eyed Nath’s scales. “I can only imagine the lurker will be looking forward to a taste of you. I’ve heard every marrow has a different flavor.” He rubbed his belly. “Still makes me a little sick to my stomach when I hear those horrible sucking sounds. Worse than an orc licking its fingers, thanks to the accompanying screams.” His bald head shivered. “Ugh, still hear the screams.”

Nath folded his arms over his chest, glowered at him, and said, “You wouldn’t be stretching the truth, would you?”

Gnomes, unlike dwarves, weren’t quite so honest. Not only were they crafters, they were well-known tricksters as well.

Snarggell eyed him back and said in a dire tone, “I assure you, this is no tall tale.”

Nath looked back over his shoulder. The inverted staircase was gone.

“Where did …”

Snarggell held his palm up and pressed a finger to his lips. His eyes widened like saucers, and the chiseling of the other gnomes stopped.

“It was nice talking to you, Nath Dragon,” the gnome said, extending his hand. “I’ll do what I can to preserve your skin. There’s no salvation for your bones, however. The lurker knows you’re here.”

CHAPTER 37

Nath’s senses ignited. The crystal gnomes set down their tools. Huddled together murmuring, they turned into an odd-looking statue of jaxite stone. He caught Snarggell peering at him. The gnome winked just before he solidified. All that was left of the gnomes was a hunk of lifeless stone, odd in fashion, but similar to the rest of the cavern.

“Thanks for the help,” Nath said. He eyed the place where the inverted steps once were. The entire cavern landscape had changed. The series of caves had become catacombs of blue-green stones.

He sighed, drew Fang, and wandered into the oppressive silence.

Dragons were patient. Mature ones were, anyway. They had all the time in the world, but of late, Nath wasn’t so patient. Being trapped in the catacombs reminded him of the tomb he’d lain in for twenty-five years. Again now, it seemed to take forever to get from one place to another.

What if I go into a deep sleep again? With this lurker near?

Worry. It was the enemy of the brave. It wasn’t something Nath was accustomed to either, yet it was there. Same as the shard of a dagger that bit between his ribs, courtesy of Overlord Doremus.

I must help Bayzog.

Nath wandered into the depths of the catacombs. The jaxite illuminated his way. It was a strange place, dayless and nightless, and it reminded him a little of Dragon Home. The stark silence was misery, however. Unsettling like a rash that ran through his bones. Only his steps penetrated the silence. The tunnel twisted left and sloped down, taking him right back to where he’d started what seemed like an hour ago.

Not much of a monster if it’s afraid to face me.

Nath tried to envision it.
It must be big if it eats horses and dragons
. A shadow or a shade, perhaps. Would it have many arms, legs or heads? Could it cast fire from its breath? Was it a giant of a man or some hideous beast? He’d never heard of the lurker before. Perhaps Bayzog would have read about it in his histories and been able to tell Nath something about it.

Nath walked on for hours, but the landscape didn’t change. Jaxite. Jaxite. And more Jaxite. A glimmering rock that was clear like glass. He stared into a piece that was smooth as a mirror. His reflection faced him. He could see blood dried on his face, and his lips were split and swollen.

Gads, my hair’s a mess.
He combed his free hand through it and winced. His chewed up arm was still tender, agonized and stiff.
The long days just get longer.
As he turned from the polished stone, his image turned into something dark and ugly, then faded away.

Nath felt a chill in his scales. A foreboding presence neared. The faint smell of decay filled his nostrils.

Follow that malodorous smell. Where there’s stink, there’s evil.

Trusting his instincts, he tracked the scent. Winding, turning, rising and dipping, the lurker’s course resembled a crooked river. The farther Nath followed, the worse the smell became.

If there are orcs at the end of this, I might be glad to see them.

He rounded a deep bend into a vast cavern that opened up like a huge auditorium. Bones were piled up high all over. A horrifying sight. Flesh rotted on busted bones. Skulls of horned dragons and other beasts lined the walls. The heads of all the races were scattered all about, just as Snarggell had said. The elves, dwarves and humans made him think of his friends. Most of the others he didn’t care so much about.

He journeyed through the massive cavern, surveying all the atrocities. Decades of death as far as his keen eyes could see. A graveless tomb for the unburied. The lurker, whatever it might be, was detestable.

He stopped. A disturbing sound tickled Nath’s ears. Sucking. Long, slow slurping draws. His irritation for the gnomes rose. It seemed they’d been truthful about everything. He started onward. The sounds became clearer. More distinct. More terrible.

Snap. Crack. Pop.

Ahead, bones were being snapped like branches. Slurping came in deep draws. A satisfied moaning followed. He heard bones tossed onto bones.

“Mmmmmm…” something completely alien to him said. “It seems I’ve an eager guest to dine with. Come…” It made a sucking sound. “Come … I yearn for a new flavor.” It sniffed at the air. “A sweet fragrance unlike all before. Come…”

Nath’s legs moved with a will not his own. He felt dreamy and light. He didn’t feel his toes touching the ground. The voice. The disconcerting voice was irresistible. His arms hung at his sides. Fang dangled in his clawed fingers.

“Come,” the lurker said, growing in strength. It sounded like many in one voice. It inhaled, making a great sniffing sound. “No fear in this one. So, so delicious. Strong. Powerful. We must have it. Come,” it commanded.

Nath’s eyes rolled up. His eyelids fluttered. Fang flared to life in his hand.

We?

The recesses of his lulled mined begged the question.

We? Is there one lurker, or are there many?

Nath waded through the bone pyres, dragging Fang behind him.

“Come,” it said, so strong, soft and soothing. “And release your shiny toothpick. We won’t require that. Come… ”

“What are you?”
Nath said, forcing out the question. Curiosity assailed him.

“I am all that I consume,” it said. “Now, come … gaze upon me.”

Nath’s languid eyes lowered. His gaze tilted upward. A monstrosity lounged on a throne of jaxite many times the size of him. Its wide face was terrible and ever changing. He saw men, dragons, and orcs in its burning eyes. A rack of great horns rested on its head. Its arms were many, of all the races. Its many legs were hooved, scaled and taloned. Tentacles writhed like hair around its neck with little mouths hissing like snakes. Coarse hair and scales covered it all over. Its jaws were wide and filled with great sharp teeth. The lurker was the abomination of all abominations.

Nath’s knees locked when it opened its enormous mouth and said, “Come, make this easy. Hop in.”

A startled cry escaped his lips. Fang slipped from his fingertips.

CHAPTER 38

Nath had no sensation in his arms or legs. His heart thundered in his chest. He felt like a child who’d been told the most terrible of stories. Horrors that struck in the night, leaving children terrified of the dark. Yet there was no darkness. Only desolation. He stepped toward the lurker’s gaping mouth.

Come. Come. Come.

The suggestive words repeated in his head, driving him forward.

The long snake-like tentacles spread about its head like a glorious raiment. The lurker pushed up off its throne and came forward. It had no neck, no chest, just a body with a head, arms, and legs. Its face shifted between dragons and ogres. Dwarves and orcs. Curiosity and suggestion compelled Nath forward.

Come. Come. Come.

The recesses of his mind became fuzzy. Unclear. There was something welcoming about the gaping maw and writhing tentacles coming toward him. He took a long step forward.

Come. Come. Come.

“Be part of my oneness,” it said. “Join the others and feast on bones forever.” Its arms stretched outward. The rows of fangs glistened in its mouth.

Nath’s thoughts were lost. His will was not his own. It bothered him. He took another step and stopped.

This is not right. This is not right at all.

“Come,” the lurker urged him. “Come now. There is no turning back. It is inevitable, Friend.”

A black-bearded dwarf appeared in his mind. Words followed.

“If it eats people, kill it.”

Nath stumbled backward. He tore his gaze away. Covered his ears with his paws.

“So be it then,” the lurker said, scurrying like an insect from side to side. “I never tire of executing dragons.” It pounced.

It covered Nath with its bulk. Tendrils tied him up. Punching fists assaulted him. The lurker slammed him on the ground and slung him across the floor.

“Hmmmm,” it said, “seems your bones don’t break so easily. The tougher the bone, the more delicious the marrow.” A great tongue rolled out and licked its lips. “A feast of the delicious.”

Nath scrambled to his feet, sucked in his breath, and shot a ball of fire from his mouth. It struck its cheek and sizzled out.
I’ve nothing left.

Its laughter was awful.

“Oh how I like that fire in dragon bellies.” Its face turned into that of a dragon, and it sucked in and blew out. Roaring flames gushed out, enveloping Nath.

He cried out.

The lurker stormed into the flames, jerked him out, and dangled him in front of its eyes.