Terror At The Temple (Book 3) (8 page)

CHAPTER
20

It was bad, alright. Three times as bad as I thought it would be.

“Firebites! What in Narnum are they doing here!”

Yes, they're Dragons. No, they aren't good. Not evil, but not good. They're also known in the Dragon Home as Fire Brats.

I ducked.

A small creature zinged over my head. A pixlyn. A small fairy-like man with wings. A Firebite was on his tail, chasing him into the sky, darting in and out of the trees. I could see two more waiting above as their brother flushed the Pixlyn out.

“Ben! Don’t leave those horses, do you hear?”

Firebites are small, little bigger than my foot, but they're all Dragon. Nasty Dragons, red-scaled, black-winged, more than capable of handling their own in the big, big world.

“What did you say?” Ben shouted back. “What are those things, anyway?”

“Stay with the horses, Ben!”

I nocked an arrow. Not mithril. Not magic. Just one I used for hunting. The Pixlyn came again. I shot. He dove. The arrow splintered off the pursuing Firebite's nose. It howled a split second before it crashed into a tree.

“Excellent shot, Dragon!”

“Get to the horses, Ben!”

In a blink, I reloaded, eyeing the sky. Down the next two came.

“Always have to do it the hard way, don’t you fellas?” I said, aiming.

Twang!

The arrow split on its face. A normal arrow wouldn’t harm it, but it would sting. I stepped out of the way as it crashed to the ground.

A stream of flame shot from the third one's mouth.

“What are you doing, Fire Brat?” I said, jumping away. The tree behind me burst into flame. If I didn’t calm them down, they’d set the entire forest on fire. The next thing I knew, they had me surrounded. Vicious little lizards, tongues licking around their red hot mouths, snorting smoke and flames from their nostrils.

“Why are you attacking me?”

I felt something brush against my hair.

“Sultans of Sulfur!” I had a Pixlyn on my head. “Get off me!”

The Dragons' razor-sharp teeth nipped at my boots as they circled.

I could feel the white-hot heat coming out of their mouths. They could fry me in an instant if they wanted. I could see the fury in their eyes. They wanted that Pixlyn.

I tried some Dragonese, saying, “Go away. The hunt is over.”

They stopped and cocked their heads like little red dogs.

“Peace and Home,” I said, and repeated.

Firebites are rebels. They come and go as they please. And they're harder to catch than most Dragons. They don't have the weakness for gems or gold. It's the hunt and torment of all creatures inferior that they live for.

Sitting back on their haunches, they growled a little. Behind me, the burning tree was beginning to crackle.

“That’s more like it,” I said, reaching my Dragon arm out to the nearest. It growled, bloodstone eyes fixed on my shoulder. There, the Pixlyn sat, huffing for breath, a worried expression on his tiny face. The poor creature was exhausted. “You better stay back,” I said. I felt it conceal itself in my locks.

“I’ll help you, Dragon!”

From out of nowhere, Ben came swinging his sword.

“No, Ben! Stop!”

It was too late.

“EEE-YAH!”

Ben swung hard, hitting a Firebite, sending it skipping across the ground.

“Fool! I told you to stay with the horses! Now we'll—”

A stream of flames shot from two Dragons’ mouths.

I leaped, knocking Ben out of the way.

“Stay behind me!” I said, locking my bow on my back.
Shing!
Fang was secure in my grip.

“Are those Dragons?” Ben said, behind my ears.

“No, fool! Those are angry Dragons! Very angry!”

“You sound angry,” Ben said, worried. “Are you?”

I didn’t say anything. Ben only meant well, but good intentions were often a brave man’s undoing.

Puff! Puff! Puff!

Three balls of fire shot my way. I swatted them away with my sword, the splatter burning my fingertips and arms.

“Ow! That burns!” Ben said behind me.

Whatever connection I'd had with the Firebites was gone now. Not only did they want the Pixlyn, they now wanted Ben and me, as well. And these Firebites were fully grown; their fire, though small, would last much longer than others'.

“What do we do?” Ben said. “I don’t want to be burned alive.”

I could feel Ben sliding away from me.

“Don’t you dare run,” I growled. “They’ll turn you into char before you get within a dozen yards of a horse. Stand your ground and live. Give ground and die.”

Nervous, Ben said, “That’s what my uncle the Legionnaire says.”

I didn’t see any way out of this. They were going to hurt us, fry us, burn us. The intent was there as their tails snapped back and forth. They’d burn the entire forest down if they wanted to. I’d have to use Fang. I’d have to be quicker than them.

“Fang, if you have any advice, I could use it now.”

“What?” Ben said.

“Nothing,” I said. “Prepare yourself.”

As Ben and I stood side by side, I saw the Firebites' tiny chests swell. A torrent of flame shot out.

CHAPTER 2
1

Instantly, a wall of ice formed before me. Fang's blade radiated an icy blue color, the like I'd never seen on the metal before.

“Whoa!”

On the other side, the Dragon flames crackled against the ice, causing the sheet to melt. With Fang glowing like a blue star in my hand, I seized the moment.

“Stay behind this wall,” I ordered Ben.

Fang was pulsating with power. It was intoxicating. I stepped around the wall and faced the tiny Dragons. In Dragonese, I spoke.

“That’s enough! Begone, Firebites!” I said, pointing at them with my sword.

Fireballs shot from each mouth, pelting me with fire.

“Argh!” I screamed. It hurt, but just like when the Steel Dragon breathed fire on me, it didn't destroy me.

Fang moaned, angry, and blasted shards of ice into all of them.

Defiant, they let out with tiny roars, mouths shooting with fire.

Fang hit them again, coating them with frost from head to toe.

Growling, shivering, they backed away.

I willed Fang to shoot them again. The fire brats deserved it.

“Get out of here while you can!”

Wings pinned to their sides, one by one, they scampered away. The last one, looking back, shot another blast of fire my way. I ducked, and when I looked back, it was gone.

Still filled with power, I shot another blast into the burning tree. The ice smothered the flames out. Admiring Fang, I said, “That was incredible.”

Fang flared and moaned, then returned back to his shiny coat of steel.

“Well done, Fang. And thank you,” I said, sliding him back into his sheath.

I remembered what the Steel Dragon had said.
That sword you have, Little Dragon… you should get to know it better… that day your father forged it, I was there… tell him hello… and thank you.

There was certainly much more to that than I expected.

“You talk to your sword,” Ben said, stepping from behind the wall of ice, “And it makes snow?”

I fought the urge to slap him.

“Ben! You almost got us killed. Do you understand that?”

He stood there, blinking.

“Do you want to continue this journey with me?” I said, patting out a patch of flame on my armor. I had burn marks all over me, and a nasty boil popped up on my arm.

He nodded.

“Then, follow my orders from now on!” I punched him in the arm. “Got it!”

He grimaced, holding his shoulder.

I shrugged. That’s what Brenwar would have done if I’d acted so foolish. I felt Ben eyeing my back.

“Were those Dragons? They were so small.”

“Yes, those were Dragons. And as you can see, just because something is small, doesn’t mean it’s not dangerous. Take a moment to think: what would have happened if they came after you without me? You’d be a Human Roast, right? And they have our scent now. They might come back, you know. Burn us in our sleep.”

Eyes like saucers, tone somber, he nodded and said, “I’m sorry, Dragon. I guess we're even, huh?”

“I guess—say what?” Something rustled in my hair. I’d forgotten about the Pixlyn.

Snatch!

I had him in my Dragon claws.

“What is that!” exclaimed Ben.

The Pixlyn struggled in my grip, but I wasn’t hurting him. I wasn’t letting him go, either.

“A Pixlyn, part of the fairy race.”

Ben came closer, gaping, and said, “I heard they granted wishes.”

I laughed but not out loud.
This should be good
.

“Go ahead, make a wish then,” I suggested.

“Well, why don’t you make a wish, then?”

I closed my eyes, thinking, and said, “Hmmm… well, I didn’t really have one in mind, but if you’re not interested, I could think of one; I guess. I’m hungry: maybe some food.”

“No! Do something bigger than that.”

“What would you wish for, Ben?”

This should be interesting
. You could learn a lot about a person if you knew what they wished for.

Scratching the side of his cheek, looking between me and the fairy, Ben said, “I’d wish for peace in all Nalzambor.”

Well, that was touching. Naïve, but at least his heart was in the right spot.
He’ll make a fine hero yet
.

“Impressive, but pretty big, Ben. Their magic is limited, so you might as well ask for something smaller.”

“Can I save it?”

“Sure, you can do whatever you want.”

He glanced at me and said, “He can’t really grant wishes, can he?”

“I can neither confirm nor deny that.

The pixlyn chattered at me, but I had no idea what he said. I imagine it was "Let me go!"

“What are you going to do with him?”

The Pixlyn was an exotic and handsome little thing. His skin was the color of pollen, his eyes like tiny gems. A perfect figurine of a man. Still, it was strange to find a Pixlyn so far from the high mountains. And I found it hard to believe the Firebites rousted him out from there. And the creature, though defiant in my grasp, seemed sad, almost worried.

“What is wrong—”

A puff of blue smoke shot from his mouth and into my face, my mouth, my eyes.

Oh no
! The lights went out, and my memories began to fade.

CHAPTER 22

I awoke with the sun in my eyes and a headache.

“Ugh… what hit me?”

“Nothing,” Ben said. “That fairy or pixie thing just spat on you.”

I rolled over. There was Ben, glum-faced and dark-eyed. He looked like he hadn’t slept in a week.

“You been up all night?”

He rubbed his eyes, yawning.

“Yep. I couldn’t sleep if I had to. I swore I heard those little Dragons prowling around all night.” He huffed out a breath. “I’m really glad you’re awake because I couldn’t wake you, and I tried. Oy, did I try.”

I sat up, looking around, rubbing my head. There was a lump on it.

“Sultans of Sulfur, Ben! Couldn’t’ you catch me when I fell? What did I land on, a stone?”

“Sorry, but I was watching that Pixx… er—”

“Pixlyn!” I growled. “So, I guess it’s long gone by now. Hope you got your wish in. Now get the gear and the horses; let’s go!”

I was agitated. It wasn’t all Ben’s fault, but having him around didn’t help. It just slowed me down. I had Dragons to save, and the only thing I was saving was myself and him. It was time to get him to the city and settle him in. I had things to do.

I saddled up as soon as Ben led the horses over.

“You get everything?” I asked.

“Certainly. Eh, Dragon?”

“What?”

“That blister on your arm, it looks painful. I could lance it for you. I saw my mother lance one on my father once. He burned himself really bad at the forge. A hot horse caught him.”

The blister was as big as an egg and throbbed with a life of its own. A chronic reminder of my carelessness.

“Do I look like someone who’s worried about a little blister on my arm?” I said, scowling. I didn’t smile all the time, unless ladies were around.

“No.”

I slit it open with my Dragon thumb.

Ben looked like he’d swallowed a scorpion as the puss drained out.

“There, Ben. You don’t have to worry about me anymore.” I snapped the reigns. “Yah!”

***

Quintuklen. A monolithic marvel against the northern skies.

“What do you think?” I said.

Ben stared, saying, “I never imagined it was so big.”

It was big. The biggest city in Nalzambor, which I always found odd, because humans didn’t stick around as long as the rest of us. But they were an ambitions lot.

“How tall are those… those things?” Ben pointed.

“Those are called
buildings,
and they're the tallest structures in the world. Excluding the Mountains of course. Naturally.”

Even I admired them. It was a fascinating view, from the top of one to the streets below. The people seemed so tiny. It made me long for flying once more.

We trotted along a road heading towards the city, which was still miles in the distance.

“Uh, Dragon?”

“Yes.”

“I’m, well, I’m…”

I saw the lump in his throat roll up and down.

“Scared, I’d imagine.”

He nodded.

“Don’t worry, Ben. It’s normal. And once we get in there and see all the people, those fears will trickle away. Just don’t buy anything or talk to the painted ladies. The merchants have a name for newcomers like you.”

“A name? What kind of name?”

“Lillypad. People will be nice, but too nice can be deadly.”

He blanched.

“And if you have any money, keep it in your boots. There are pick pockets all over. Are you listening?”

“Oh… sorry, it’s just those buildings. So big. I never could have imagined it.”

“You’ll get used to it. Now, stay close to me and don’t smile. That only invites unwanted attention.”

“Alright, Dragon.”

The city, like all the rest aside from the Free City of Narnum, was fortified. A stone wall just over six feet tall was the first line of defense, but there were no gates or guards, just gaps spaced out every half mile or so. A hundred yards farther in, we came to the second wall: about twelve feet high with soldiers marching back and forth on the catwalks.

Looking around, I said, “Hold on.” Reaching into my pack, I grabbed the Vial of concealment and dripped two drops on my Dragon arm.

“What’s that?” Ben said.

“Watch.”

I thought of what I wanted. My black scales faded, and only my skin and fingers remained. I wasn’t so sure I liked it, but I didn’t want any attention, either.

“Whoa!” Ben said. “Can that make me look different, too?”

Does he think potions grow on trees
? “No," I lied, "It just conceals my scales. That’s all I wanted. Come on, now.”

Two massive wooden doors remained open, and we passed through with a throng of merchants and travelers, maybe an adventurer or two.

“Follow me,” I said, “And don’t stare at anybody.”

Through a gap in the wall we went; into the city we came. Ben gasped from behind me. There were people everywhere. Women draped the windows of tiny apartments: whistling, smiling and carrying on. Pushy merchants shoved sticks of cooked meat in our faces.

“Try some. The best. Make you strong warriors!” an elder one said, flashing his gums.

“Stop that!” Ben cried.

A half dozen little children were pulling at his boots. He shoved one down and into the ground. All the children screamed and cried, “Soldiers! Soldiers!”

“Stick your boots in the stirrups and ride on, Ben,” I said through my teeth. “Let’s go.”

“Halt!”

A group of well-armed soldiers were coming our way.