Tail of the Dragon (2 page)

CHAPTER 3

“You did what!” Brenwar said, jumping to his feet.

Nath didn’t want to tell him about the giants, but the dwarf was always good at knowing when he was holding something back. “It was as if I’d gone looking for them. They just appeared. Erupted, rather, right in the middle of the field.”

Brenwar gripped his war hammer in front of his chest and started to stomp around the woodland. “You can’t fight giants without me. You just can’t. It’s wrong. Wrong.” His hand tugged at his beard. “You should’ve come back and gotten me!”

“It was leagues away,” Nath said, trying to sound reassuring. “Besides, they jumped me.” He rubbed his jaw with his paws. “It wasn’t an ordinary scrap, you know. They were tough. Caught me off guard, but I handled them.” He puffed out a fire ring. “They’re Nalzambor fertilizer now. Well, except one.”

Brenwar turned and faced him. He lifted a brow. “One? What one?”

Nath inspected his dragon claws.
Is that a chip? Blast!

Brenwar marched over and poked Nath in the leg with his hammer. “What! One!”

“Uh, the one I dropped off in the snowcaps. It won’t be much of a bother now. And he’s only got one arm left.”

“You fool!” Brenwar blurted out.

Nath reared up. “What did you call me?”

Brenwar took a step back, glanced up at him, then glanced back down. “I apologize.”

Nath sighed. Certainly Brenwar meant well, but things had changed. Nath was the ruler of the dragons now and had to be treated accordingly. An outburst like that would be costly in front of others. “You’re fortunate no one else is around, aside from the trees.”

“Punish me,” Brenwar said. There was a sad tone in his voice. “It must be done. I never would have spoken to your father like that. And if I had, I’d have been ash.”

“True. Either that, or he might have told you one of his hundred-year-long stories.” Nath nudged Brenwar with his tail, knocking the stalwart dwarf over. “How’s that for punishment?”

Lying flat on his belly, Brenwar said, “You’re too merciful.”

“Oh, am I? I guess I’ll have to make the punishment more severe, then.”

Brenwar took a knee and bowed his head. “As you wish, Sire.”

Nath raised his tail to strike. Of course, he’d never harm a friend, even in the worst of cases. But still, he was the King Dragon now. Even on a rogue adventure, there had to be some form of order. Even for Brenwar, and the battle-hardened dwarven warrior knew that. Still, it made Nath uneasy. His stomach fluttered. He had subjects now, so things weren’t the same as they had been. Brenwar and many others treated him differently now. It left him feeling isolated.

“First, Brenwar, tell me, why did you call me ‘Fool’?”

“Er, the earth giants, well, they hold grudges. And they are tight knit. They’ll summon all their clans to avenge their fallen. It would have been better if you’d killed them all.”

“Has anyone ever made the right decision every time?”

“Your father did.”

Nath huffed. It was hard to argue that his father Balzurth hadn’t always made the right decision every time, seeing how Nath had never really seen his father do much of anything at all. However, of one thing he was certain: his father’s word was without question. “Not that you have seen, anyway,” Nath replied. “So, perhaps I’ll revisit the snowcaps and finish what I started, then?”

“Don’t bother, Sire,” Brenwar said with an increasing frown. “He’s long gone by now. I’m certain of it. Besides, we have things to do.” His dwarven breastplate reflected the sun’s light when he turned and faced what looked to be an abandoned temple of some kind. There, large piles of rubble and stone pylons had toppled over and become covered in overgrown brush. Brenwar started toward it, stopped, and said, “With your permission, of course, Sire?”

“Nath, Brenwar.”

“Aye.”

“And Brenwar, what about the earth giants. Is there truly a dire concern?”

“No doubt there will be,” he said, pushing through the brush. “But it will take time. They aren’t quick about such things. They’ll plan, then strike. And all of Nalzambor will know.”

“That sounds severe. I’d just as soon prevent it.”

“Pah. If you wanted to prevent it …” Brenwar’s voice trailed off.

“Oh come now, Brenwar. Speak freely. Though I’ve often wished you had a bridled tongue, I value your wisdom.”

Brenwar climbed up on a pile of busted stones and met Nath’s dragon face eye to eye. “The giants couldn’t have eaten all the cattle, could they?”

“Their bellies were quite formidable.”

“You should have left well enough alone. Let them have their fill and moved on. But you couldn’t, could you? Itching for a fight you were.”

“And you wouldn’t have been?”

“Of course. But I’d have planned it better. Let them eat, get fat, and be slow. They just bury themselves in the deep dirt again. They rest for years, even decades, you know. But now, they have a cause.”

“Are you telling me my actions might have cataclysmic consequences?” Nath asked.

“Probably.” Brenwar hopped to the ground and headed back into the ruins.

Nath lumbered in behind him. With ease he pushed the piles of rocks and fallen trees aside. “I think you’re exaggerating, Brenwar. Just trying to teach me a lesson.”

“We’ll see,” the dwarf said. “We’ll see.”

CHAPTER 4

Brenwar turned his head over his shoulder and gazed up at Nath Dragon. Over the decades, he’d gotten accustomed to Balzurth’s mighty dragon frame. The king dragon’s presence was warm and radiant, but one had to be mindful in his presence. Balzurth’s very voice could shatter a man’s bones.

Things were different now with Nath. His friend, covered in supine armored scales, had grown into nothing short of the magnificent presence that his father was. Nath was a beautiful work. A giant lizard that moved with cat-like grace. His voice was strong and reassuring. Nath was all the right things in one. Still, Brenwar’s chest tightened. His heart ached. His best friend had grown up on him, and it wouldn’t be long before he’d move on. Spend more time with his own kind. Brenwar was certain of it.

“Sire, er, I mean Nath, I’m going to venture into the bowels of the ruined mess, if that’s all right by you?”

Nath’s armored frame eased to the ground, becoming one with the mountainside. He eyed Brenwar and said with a yawn, “You do that, Brenwar. Just yell if you need me. Whew, those cattle sure were filling. I think I’ll sit and listen to the birds for a bit.”

“Well, don’t fall asleep. The last time you went out, more than a month passed by.” Brenwar hefted the war hammer over his shoulder. “And I’m not getting any younger. I’ve only a few hundred years still in me, if that.”

“Oh, Brenwar, you’ll never die. Your bones are too bitter for the grave.”

“If you say so, Nath.” Brenwar marched off. After he’d gone a few hundred yards, he began chucking away the stones that lay over some kind of buried entrance. With a grunt he pushed away a rock bigger than him and found himself gazing at a pewter portal wide enough for a large man to fit through. It was round and marked in ancient script. He didn’t know the writing. There were two handles on it. He clutched his beard. “I sense treachery.”

“What was that, Brenwar?” Nath said from far away. “Treachery, you say?”

“Probably nothing, just a marker. I’m assuming there’s another vault below. Probably filled with goblin bones or some other kind of stupid.” He started to tug on the handles. “I got it.” He strained and grunted. The pewter door groaned but didn’t give. “Ugh!” Brenwar spat on his hand and renewed his grip on the handles. He put his back and short, powerful legs into it. “Hurk!”

The door didn’t yield.

“Perhaps I can help,” said Nath’s voice.

Brenwar turned and jumped half out of his boots. Nath’s nose was in his face. “Quit doing that!”

“Doing what?”

“You know, sneaking.” Brenwar ran his eyes up and down Nath’s huge body. “I don’t know how you do that, but it’s aggravating.”

“Maybe you’re losing your hearing, Brenwar.” Nath tapped his dragon claw on his temple. “Too many blows to the head, perhaps.”

I’d like to give you a blow to the head,
Brenwar thought.

Nath’s golden eyes narrowed on him.

Brenwar swallowed.

“Here, let me try,” Nath said. He wedged one claw under one handle on the pewter portal and popped it off with a flick.

A rush of stale air burst out.

Nath dangled the portal door in front of Brenwar’s eyes. “Here you go.”

“I loosened it for you.” Brenwar leaned over and peered down into the hole. He said to Nath, “Don’t suppose you can squeeze down in there, too, can you?”

Nath took a snort of air into his nostrils. “Nothing but the malodorous dead down there. You might want to be careful.” He flipped the pewter portal door like a coin and watched it land on the ground. He eyed the markings. “Huh, these runes have patterns similar to some we’ve seen before. How old is Nalzambor, anyway?”

Brenwar rubbed his forehead with his fingers. That same question had often been asked. No one knew the answer for sure, but the dwarven histories dated back a few thousand years—and no further than that. “So you’re saying you can’t read it?”

“No, I can’t. But I can only assume that it’s a warning. You’d better be careful.”

Brenwar peered back into the hole again. The last time he’d crawled into one, he almost hadn’t made it back out. “You could come too, you know.”

“But it’s so agonizing to change back into a human. You know that. Besides, we’d be able to cover more distance if you’d just ride on my back,” Nath said.

“Dwarves don’t fly.”

“I could insist that you do it.”

“Well, I’d prefer you didn’t.” Out of his rucksack, Brenwar produced a tiny lantern attached to a string. He tapped on its side three times, and its fire came to life. Hand over hand, he lowered it into the hole. “Besides, I like long walks. You used to, too.”

With a matter-of-fact tone in his voice, Nath said, “Those days are gone, Brenwar. I’m a dragon now. And we have a lot of ground to cover in this search for my mother. At this rate, it’ll be a hundred years before we even find a clue. Of which, well, we have very little already.” Nath slumped down on his belly. “Oh, I don’t even know why I’m bothering. If my mother really is out there, you’d think she’d try to find me.”

“You can’t think like that,” Brenwar said, eyeing Nath. He noticed a deep crease forming between the eyes and horns of Nath’s head. “I’m sure if she could, she would.”

“It’s futile. It’s been a year, and we haven’t found a thing.”

“Nothing is futile, not for a dragon such as you, anyway. And we have found some things.”

Nath rolled over on his back and gazed up at the sky. “Sure, a bunch of old pottery from civilizations long past. How exciting. Huff.”

Brenwar’s stomach started to knot. Sure, he didn’t want to fly on Nath’s huge dragon back, but he didn’t want the quest to find Nath’s mother to end too soon, either. He enjoyed his adventures with Nath, but now, he felt those grand times were fading. Times that would never come back again.

“If you like, you can scan for some other sights. I don’t think we’ll find much here.”

Nath didn’t reply.

So far, their journeys had been pretty exciting and eventful for Brenwar. He enjoyed traversing into places he’d never been before. And they had a great system going, too. Flying above, Nath would scour the mountain ranges and pick up anything interesting with his keen eyes. They’d already found dozens of ruins and temples that were long forgotten. Brenwar had even dug up some lost treasures, and he liked that. But their search for signs of Nath’s mother was fruitless, and they only had one clue to go on. It was a message that Balzurth had left. It said, “What you seek is in the peaks.” That was all.

“I’m going in,” Brenwar said, glancing back at Nath. “Don’t run off, now.” He dangled his legs over and found footing on the iron rungs inside. He began his descent. Something shot out from below and snagged his leg.
Thwiip!
“What in the—
ulp
!”

CHAPTER 5

Nath sat up. “Brenwar?” Tilting his head, he picked up the sounds of a violent rustling down inside the hole. “Brenwar!”

“Nath!” his friend bellowed out.

Nath leaned over the portal. Something big darted out and jumped on his nose. It was a tarantula-like creature, but it had scales and a dragon’s tail. The fangs in its mouth dripped with venom that sizzled on Nath’s scales. Its many eyes, deep red and beaded, glared at him. It struck, sinking its fangs into his nose.

The venom burned.

Nath’s eyes watered.

He snatched the dragon spider by the tail and slammed it into the ground. “You little fiend!”

The monster, about the size of Brenwar, zinged spider silk into a nearby tree and started to scurry away.

“Oh no you don’t,” Nath said. Like a mighty whip, he unleashed his tail. He smote the dragon spider across its back and smashed it into the ground.

The spider spat a ball of venom on Nath, stinging his toes.

“Ow. Blast you, insect!” He snatched up the dragon spider in his claws and squeezed.

Its body squished and crunched.

Nath wiped the dragon spider off his paws and onto the grasses.

Its scaly skin was intact, but the goo was squished out of it.

“Yuck.”

“For Morgdon!” Brenwar bellowed from inside the hole.

The ground shook.

Krang!

Wary-eyed, Nath looked back inside the hole. The lantern was out, but Nath could make out something still moving below.

Suddenly, the lantern was aglow again and Brenwar held it in his hand. His shoulders were sagging.

“Brenwar, are you all right?”

Brenwar started up out of the hole. He was moving slowly, even for him. He emerged. His armor was splashed with dragon spider guts. He staggered over and leaned against a rock. War Hammer hung loose in his hand, and his breathing was heavy.

“Brenwar, you don’t look well.” Nath took a closer look. Brenwar’s skin was pale. Clammy. “By the Flames! Your hand!”

The skin on Brenwar’s hand was purple and bloated.

“Just a little spider bite,” Brenwar mumbled. I’ll be fine.”

But Nath could tell that the dwarf was not fine. His friend and oldest ally smelled of decay. Nath narrowed his eyes and focused. With his special dragon sight, he could see that the spider venom was eating Brenwar up from the inside. It was happening at a very alarming rate. Oh no! Brenwar’s arm was beginning to disintegrate!

“Brenwar, the chest! Get the chest!”

The dwarf fumbled with his belt pouch. His eyes were glassy, his pupils wide and dark black. He collapsed face first on the ground.

“Brenwar!”

Nath’s heart raced. He rolled Brenwar over and tried to open up his belt pouch. His claws were far too big.
I’ve got to change. I’ve got to change now! Guzan!

Changing back into a man took time and a great deal of concentration. If he did it more often, it wouldn’t be so bad, but it had been a long time since he’d been a man.

Think, Dragon. Think!

A thought struck him.

He let out a dragon squawk. A call for help. “
Ka-Kwak! Ka-Kwak! Ka-Kwak!
”

In times past, the cry for help wouldn’t have done him much good. The dragons had ignored him for the first two hundred years of his life, but those fences had been mended. He was their king now. He nuzzled Brenwar’s body close to his.

Brenwar’s eyes blinked rapidly.

“Hold on, Brenwar. Hold on.”

Brenwar’s forehead burst out in beads of feverish sweat. He let out a painful groan. “Ooooh!”

I’ve got to change. I’ve got to change.
Holding Brenwar tight, Nath closed his eyes and started to meditate. Despite all his power, Nath hadn’t often taken the liberty of exercising his gifts. In truth, he had many that he still needed to discover for himself.

Right now, he could only hope some other dragons could come to his aid, because by the time he changed, it would probably be too late.

Brenwar’s thunderous heartbeat had slowed.

Come on, Nath. Change. Change!

“Squawk-Chirble!”

Nath’s eyes popped open at the unforeseen sound. A small dragon, little bigger than a dog, stood on its hind legs at his feet. It was a green lily dragon, rich forest green with a paler shade on her belly. Her eyes were lashed, a golden brown, and pretty.

Nath spoke to her in Dragonese. “I need you to open his pouches. Search for a small box in there.”

“I’d be honored to assist the Son of Balzurth, my liege Nath Dragon,” she replied in a very polished Dragonese voice. Her tiny paws rummaged through Brenwar’s pouches and produced a wooden chest just big enough for a large ring. “Is this what you seek?”

“It is,” Nath said, eyeing it. It was Bayzog who had shrunk it down to that size. There was a particular word that would make it grow back to normal size, and Nath hadn’t been paying attention when it was said. “Ah, forgive me, Brenwar. I can’t remember the word.”

The green lily cocked her head and said in the direction of Brenwar. “Is this dwarf important to you?”

“Of course. He’s my friend.”

“Why?” she said.

“Oh, it’s a long story and we’re running out of time. He’s been poisoned.” Nath sighed. “I fear he doesn’t have much time. Blast my scales. I can’t remember the word.”

The green lily turned and faced him with her little paws clasped together. She looked like a princess on her hind legs. “Is there anything else I can assist you with, Dragon Prince?”

“I need the chest open. I need a cure for that dragon spider poison.”

“I’m sorry, I can’t help you with that,” she said. “It was a pleasure to meet you. May I be dismissed?”

“What? No! I need you to administer the potions once I get the chest open. Ugh!” He slammed his tail hard into the ground.

Boom!

Brenwar’s heartbeat continued to slow and weaken.

If Nath could have perspired, he’d have been covered in sweat.

This is my fault. All my fault. Here I am the king of the dragons, and I’m not even paying attention.

He let out a roar. “Maaarrroooooooo!”

“Nath Dragon,” he said to himself out loud, “what have you been doing?”