The Dragon's Lair (28 page)

"So, no—I will promise you nothing about the egg, as if I would even believe such a prevention was possible. But I am a fair man. If you can discover the reason the dragon has a vendetta against the Nain, I will allow you to ransom back your friend. Agreed?"

"Agreed," said Ven. Unlike Alvarran, who was of an unfamiliar culture, he knew Garson would expect a handshake, as any Nain would. So he held his hands up in the air and climbed down from the wagon, then offered his hand.

"You are very grown up for a beardless Nain," Garson said as he shook it. "It's unfortunate that you are choosing to throw your life away and die young, much the way Ganrax did. In his case, however, it wasn't his fault. In yours, it is. Make certain you write to your family before you approach the dragon's lair. They should get to hear from you one last time—unless your letter burns when you do."

"Do you know how to get to the lair, and where it is?"

Garson smiled. "I do—we all do, because the beast now occupies the magnificent fortress that was built for the little wyrmling Ganrax by Nain long ago. I will draw a map for you, but the easiest way to find it is to follow the sun west and follow the wind south. If you do that, you will come upon a lake so clear that you can see all the way to the bottom. At Crystal Lake, follow the stream that flows southwest, and you will eventually find a large, circular mound coiled like a great serpent. That is the dragon's lair. It's a magnificent structure, which is nice, as it is the last thing you will ever see."

"Thank you for the directions," Ven said. "Take good care of my friend. I will be back for him shortly. And then, depending on what I find, I will propose my offer to you again."

Garson laughed aloud. "Well, if I had to waste a bolt on a Lirin spy, at least it was worth it to have gotten to spar with you, Ven Polypheme. I wish you were going to live longer—you would be fun to talk to. Good luck—I hope it's as painless a death as possible. But I doubt it will be."

Ven bowed and returned to the wagon.

"Clem," he said, "you drive. You're the tallest."

Clem nodded silently and climbed onto Tuck's seat on the wagon board.

Ven climbed into the back.

"All right," he said to Char. "On to the last piece of the puzzle—and the only one from which we may not recover."

21
A Decision for the Ages

T
HEY TRAVELED IN SILENCE, JUST AS THEY HAD SINCE THE BIG
fight over the cap.

Ven tried hard not to think about the merrow. She had become pleasant, never spitting, glaring or even disagreeing with anyone anymore. The picture in his hand itched, reminding him that unless by some miracle her cap could be found, he only had one option left for her.

One night he ran his hand through his pocket again, as he had done a million times before, just in case he had missed it. It was not there, of course, but instead his hand brushed the jack-rule. Having nothing better to do, and being afraid of the dreams that would come with sleep, Ven took the tool out of his pocket and examined it idly.

The fact that this tool had been the pride and joy of both his father, Pepin, and his great-grandfather, Magnus the Mad, had made it a favorite of Ven's, too. He had received it from Pepin on his fiftieth birthday, the last time he had seen anyone in his family. He was only about twelve in human years, but he felt much older.

He ran his fingers over the beautiful folding ruler, admiring its tiny hinges and the tools hidden within it. There was something soothing about it, a vibration that reminded him of his family, and of home.

Homesickness started to overwhelm him, so he quickly put the jack-rule back in his pocket.

As he did, his fingers brushed the smooth envelope of Black Ivory that had been next to it.

Carefully Ven withdrew the envelope and ran his fingertip over the sharp edge of the dragon scale card that stuck out of the top. He had not taken it out or even looked at it since the night Tuck had become so angry at him.

Put that bloody thing away, Ven. Do you want the dragon to find us?

N
—
no
.

Well, I can feel it when you pull it out of the Black Ivory
—
it vibrates so strongly that my teeth sting. So if I can feel it, don't you think a dragon can? Perhaps from miles away
.

Interesting,
Ven thought now as he examined the Black Ivory sleeve.
Here we are, so close to the dragon's lair
—
maybe this will come in useful after all
.

He shook Char awake, then the others. The girls rubbed their eyes in confusion, wondering why the sky was still dark.

"I have a thought," he said to them.

Ida rolled over, preparing to go back to sleep. "Don't worry—it will die of loneliness in a minute or two. Good night."

Ven nudged her with his toe.

"Wake up, Ida," he said quietly. "I have something important to tell you—all of you."

"What is it?" Char asked drowsily.

Ven held up the sleeve.

"This is a wallet of sorts, given to me by Madame Sharra just before we left on this journey," he said. The other children blinked, and Ven felt a sudden rush of pleasure and relief at finally being able to spill the secrets he had carried so long. "It's made of a substance called Black Ivory, which is basically stone that is completely dead. Anything housed within Black Ivory is almost impossible to detect, even by someone who is very good at reading vibrations on the wind."

"Like a dragon?" Clem asked, staring at the sleeve.

"Yes. As interesting as that is, what's inside the sleeve is even more interesting—it's one of the cards she uses to tell fortunes in the Thieves' Market."

"You're kidding," said Clem, now fully awake.

"I'm not. She appeared to me in Kingston and tried to read my fortune, because she said she was unable to see a path for me beyond the next hill. In other words, she doesn't think I have much of a future."

"What does that mean?" asked Ida from the corner of the wagon.

"I don't know," said Ven. "Maybe I'm about to die." He held up his hand as Clem gasped. "Who knows? It could mean anything. But one thing I am determined to have it mean is that I make a good decision about what to do with this gift.

"When we were in the Market, before the Queen of Thieves got hold of us, Madame Sharra told me in my first reading that most of the cards in her deck were really dragon scales that were given freely by the dragons long ago, when the world was pretty new. Those dragons gave these scales to do something very noble, something that saved the world. Each scale came from a different dragon. A little bit of each dragon's magical lore, the power it could use that came from the earth itself, is still in the scales.

"Each time a new dragon is born in the world, the scales grow in power. That has always been a rare event, but it is even more so now. That power dwindles as each dragon dies as well. One day, as man or Time finally destroys the dragon race, the scales will be nothing more than cards with images on them no one can see any longer. At least that's what Madame Sharra said."

"What's your point?" Ida asked impatiently.

Ven sighed. "Inside this sleeve is one of those cards. I have no idea why she gave it to me—when I looked back to ask her, she was gone. It's called the Endless Mountains, and that's what the picture on it looks like. I would show it to you, but if the dragon's in his lair, he will immediately know that it, and we, are here.

"I've decided the scale would be a good offering to this dragon, Scarnag," he went on. "I have to get him to trust me, and I think this might be the thing to do it."

"You're a funny one to talk about trust, Ven," Clemency said quietly.

"I know. I know, and I'm sorry. I haven't been very trusting, or trustworthy, and if we all live through this, I am hoping you will all let me make amends to you. Learning to make amends is what everyone the king sent me to needs—the Lirin, the Nain, maybe even this dragon. He killed a baby dragon named Ganrax—at least the Nain think he did. Maybe he just
told
them that he did. Who knows? But we never will find out unless we try. Since I don't seem to have that much time left to me, I guess I'm the one to do it."

"How?" asked Clemency.

"I think I just need to give this scale to him. Maybe it was his in the first place—I bet he was one of those old dragons who donated a scale to that noble undertaking that saved the world. I need to get him to trust me. If I give it back without asking for anything in return, in a gesture of trust, perhaps the dragon will tell me what I need to know to save Tuck, and maybe the Nain in the process."

"Even if you do, you're never gonna get those Nain to give the Lirin back that dragon's egg," Char pointed out. "Never in a million years."

"Maybe not," said Ven. "But one thing at a time. First I have to survive the scourge of the Island." He stood up and stretched. "And even before that, I need to tell you all that I'm sorry for not trusting you as I should have, and for making you feel you are less important to me than you are. After my family, you are the most important people in the world to me. If I live, I will make amends to each of you by telling you the truth about Amariel, as well as any other secret I still have left. If I don't, please believe that I love each of you very much—and get safely home."

He looked down at the sleeve with the scale in his hand.

"Now, while I still have feet, I'm going to leave some footprints in the sands of time."

22
Into the Jaws of the Beast

A
FTER HE HAD HUGGED ALL HIS FRIENDS GOODBYE, EVEN THE
passive merrow, Ven followed the stream that flowed southwest, as Garson had said.

The stream wound into what must have been, centuries before, part of the basin of the Great River. The ground was damp and marshy, perfect to surround a dragon's lair, Ven realized, because anything fleeing the cave would become bogged down in the mire.

I'm not worried,
he thought. Death was in the back of his mind, but it did not hover like a threat, but rather lingered, a little bit like someone holding the door open for him.

Finally he came to a circular mound, part of a giant hillside carved to resemble a coiled serpent. Ven held his breath. The structure was magnificent and terrifying at the same time, with battlements that seemed impenetrable surrounding it.

He traveled all the way around the hill to the far side to find the entrance. It was an enormous portal, shaped like the open mouth of a massive serpent, stalactite fangs hanging from the roof both inside and outside. Even as calm as he was, those pointed stone spikes made the hair on the back of his head stand up.

He was but a few steps from that frightening entrance when a voice, deep in tone and hissing in vibration, blasted his ears.

"Ah, how long it has been since a young fool has come calling at my door," the terrifying voice said. In spite of its depth and hiss, it was also smooth and sweet like honey. "And a Nain, at that. What are you doing here, boy? Can youth no longer find less painful ways to die these days?"

"I did not come to die, unless you insist—"

"Yes, if I do, you will."

"—but rather with a gift instead," Ven said into the large opening.

There was a moment of silence, then a deep and nasty chuckle.

"A gift? How nice. Actually, they used to call that
tribute
. Today they call it a bribe."

"Not at all," Ven objected. "A bribe is a payment of a sort to get something in return. There is nothing I want from you except to return what I have with me, if it belongs to you."

"And if it does not, but I still want it, you know that I will take it, yes? Out of your dead hand, if necessary?"

"Yes," Ven agreed. "I know you can do that if you want. I'm hoping you won't, of course."

"Of course. So what is this gift?"

"I would be happy to show it to you," Ven said. "May I come in?"

The dragon laughed an extremely ugly laugh.

"Oh, yes, by all means, come in. I loved delivered food."