by David Adams
The others followed, struggling to match Xanar’s pace, though none would think to ask him to slow down. Even if they found the dragon, none knew how to deal with such a foe, especially in its own lair. But they knew that failure or facing it was what lay ahead for them. Even if they could not arrive in time to help Darius, the dragon had taken something else when it had grabbed the young man. It had taken the book.
* * *
If Darius thought being aloft was frightening, the landing was worse. The dragon, used to coming and going over the long years of its life, barely checked its speed as it swooped in toward the ground. At the last moment it spread its wings wide and pulled up, coming down gracefully on its rear legs. In one swift motion it folded its wings and slithered through the opening to the cave in which it made its home, all the while clutching Darius close to its chest. It snaked down a long entrance hall, which was interrupted at one point by a wide chasm the dragon easily crossed, and into a large chamber, where it placed Darius gently on the ground, as if he were a delicate china doll.
Darius got to his feet quickly and turned so that he could face the dragon. He shook himself once to loosen his sore, cramping muscles, thought of the sword he was now free to draw but decided against it. He doubted it would do much good if the dragon attacked, and if it didn’t come after him right away, he certainly wasn’t looking to provoke it.
The cave was of ice, subtly lit by the daylight that worked its way in through the main entrance and several smaller openings in the ceiling. Darius gave these openings only a cursory glance—he didn’t want to take his eyes off the dragon—but he doubted he could squeeze through them even if he could reach them, which in itself was unlikely as the ice cave’s ceiling was some thirty feet above his head. Various weapons, pieces of armor, ragged clothing, and even some small piles of gold were scattered about the cave, but it wasn’t much of a hoard. More likely it was simply the leftovers after the dragon had eaten. The assorted bones mixed with the “treasure” indicated that the dragon tended to dine at home.
The dragon itself was terrible to behold, an armored hulk of great size and strength. Its bulk nearly blocked off the entrance—the only way out that Darius could see—and its gaze, fixed firmly on its guest, was fierce and unwavering. Darius couldn’t help shuffling backward when confronted with those eyes.
The dragon lay flat on the cave floor, letting its chin drop onto one of its forelegs. It smiled at Darius’ retrograde movement. “You might as well hold still. There’s nowhere to go.”
Darius wasn’t all that surprised that the dragon could speak. It was said that they were quite intelligent. But he was surprised that it was addressing him rather than trying to eat him. He was unsure how to proceed, but he knew if he could reason with it he might still have a chance. He held his ground and said, “You’re right, of course. It’s just that you’re quite…impressive. Especially up close.”
The dragon showed its teeth in what might have been a smile. “Well spoken. I’m sure you’re wondering, so I’ll tell you. I was out hunting, and my intent was to make what I caught into lunch. However, I do not often see humans. Perhaps if you are entertaining enough, I’ll suppress my hunger.” As if to be certain its guest did not become too hopeful or relaxed, it added, “But I have grown weary of spider and troll meat.”
Darius cleared his throat. “Might you be willing to tell me what kind of ‘entertainment’ you have in mind?”
“Conversation will do for now. That in itself would be something of a rare pleasure.”
A comment about how the dragon might find more chances at conversation if it wasn’t looking to eat anyone it came into contact with was wisely left unspoken by Darius. Instead he said, “I’ll do what I can. It’s not every day I get to speak with a dragon.”
“Why don’t we start with your name? I assume it is ‘Darius?’ ”
The dragon showed its teeth again at the look of surprise on Darius’ face. “One of your companions shouted it while we made good our escape.”
Darius nodded. “And what should I call you?”
“ ‘Glaze’ will do. I doubt you’d be capable of saying my formal name in ice dragon. Now, there were five in your party, and at least one elf.”
Darius thought any denial about what the dragon already seemed to know would be a mistake. But he’d try to offer nothing more than he had to, and to learn what he could about this creature that could become a mortal enemy at any moment. “Yes. How did you know about the elf?”
“Good eyes, for one. For another, he was the one calling to you. Elvish voices have a certain timbre to them that are easily distinguishable to the well-trained ear.”
“Apparently you qualify in that respect.”
“After all these centuries, all of my senses are finely-tuned. Not just the standard five, either. For instance, I can tell you are carrying an item of great power…and great evil.”
All the alarms in Darius’ head fired at once. “And does that make you think more or less of me?”
“That would depend on how you acquired the object, and what you’re planning to do with it.”
Despite the fact that Darius felt his life depended on keeping the dragon actively engaged in conversation, he struggled to find any words. He certainly did not want to tell Glaze the tale of the book or the purpose of their quest, but he feared, in the end, it would come to that. How the dragon would react was an unanswerable question that caused Darius considerable uneasiness.
Glaze had maintained his—Darius now thought of the dragon as male due to its deep voice—relaxed posture while the quiet seconds passed. Then with snake-like quickness his head came up, jaw open, turned to the right, and let loose a blue-white stream of liquid. The effluent fell upon a rusty breastplate and helm, leaving them coated in a thick sheet of ice. The dragon swatted at the now-frozen armor with a forepaw, shattering it into a thousand pieces. “Works just as well on living flesh,” he said.
Darius opened his pack and withdrew the book. He held it for Glaze to see while he spoke. “My understanding is that this is a Book of Dread. It was formerly held by Landri, King of Longvale, and likely used by him. It may be, directly or indirectly, the cause of much of the trouble in the southern part of Corterra.”
“Did you take it from him?”
“No. A friend of mine did.”
“And why are you bringing it north, other than the fact that it would then be far away from Landri?”
“We want to open it so we can understand it better.”
Glaze pondered this a moment. “My guess is you took it to Aerlos, and now go to the crazed dark priest in the east to see if he can help.”
Darius saw no reason to deny this, so he nodded.
“And would you use it, if you could?”
“That is not my intent.”
Glaze waited a few beats to give Darius a chance to go on. When he didn’t, the dragon said, “You fear too much that I would be interested in the affairs of men. I do not know the rulers in the south, nor do I care who they might be. If you intend to overthrow Landri to rule in his stead or for other, personal reasons, it matters not to me.”
“I only wish to undo the evil he’s unleashed on the land. Or at least to stop it from going any further.”
“So he has cast spells from the book?”
“He or others of his inner circle. We’ve had to deal with some things first-hand that were not of this world.”
“You dealt with something conjured by the book?” Glaze said. “I am impressed.”
Darius decided to take the opening to try to learn something. “Could you open the book?”
“I would not do so. I have no interest in unleashing such beings in this world.”
“Then you might help us?”
“I did not say that. It strikes me that it might be best if I just kill you and your companions, and then keep the book here, where it would do no more harm.”
Darius had to fight off the urge to grab the hilt of his swo
rd. He hadn’t changed his mind about how effective it would be against the dragon, but he wasn’t going down without at least an attempt to defend himself. And standing in front of this terrible beast with no protection made him feel naked and helpless. “Obviously I hope I can persuade you to some other course of action.”
“Obviously.”
“Why go after my friends?”
“I will not have to. I assume they’re coming here. If not for you, then for the book.”
Darius forced a shrug, although the thought that help might be coming gave him a quick thrill of hope. “I don’t know their plans. Perhaps they’re heading home.”
“We’ll see soon enough.”
“Surely you don’t fear them. Or me.”
Glaze snorted derisively. “I do not.”
“Then why kill us?”
“Because you’d know where the book is, of course, and that knowledge could be taken from you if you live.”
“Bringing other creatures here. Some that might be more of a threat.”
“More a nuisance, I would say, but you have the concept.”
“If I take the book away, there would be no reason for anyone to come here. We have no quarrel with you.”
“A self-serving proposition, but I don’t blame you for it. But if you fail in your quest…anything could happen.”
“Our chances for success would improve greatly with your help.”
Glaze laughed, a deep, booming sound. “I like you, little human. You have courage. I won’t be traveling with you, nor will I make you a meal just yet. I will sleep on what we’ve spoken about. Make yourself comfortable, if you can.”
Without further comment Glaze lay his head down and closed his eyes. Within seconds his breathing settled into a deep, steady rhythm.
* * *
As the companions had gone east, the wind, thankfully, had been at their backs. But now that they went north, it seemed the wind had shifted so it could try to hold them back, blowing directly in their faces. Between the wind and the ever-deepening snow, they needed to pour all their energy into continuing to move forward, and they had little breath left to discuss anything. This was just as well, as Xanar had no interest in slowing, had no intention of looking back to see if the others were keeping pace. He thought little of what he might do once he found the dragon’s lair, instead focusing what mental energy was left after worrying about the fate of his friend into keeping his legs moving. It had been four hours, and he had not slowed.
Silas did slow, drifting back, letting their line of march string out even further, but it wasn’t his swiftly healing wounds that caused him to do so. He was worried about Darius just as the others were, but he was also worried about Barlow. The stubborn paladin had refused Silas’ proffered arm earlier as they struggled through a drift of snow, instead telling the cleric to keep moving. Silas was doing so, but he didn’t want the group to lose sight of one another and with each fresh gust of wind-driven snow, that possibility moved closer to being fact. He could still see Adrianna, and Uesra further on, but not Xanar. And Barlow was falling even further behind.
Whether Barlow caught a thought or a furtive glance, he looked up and made eye contact with Silas. “Keep going,” he shouted through the howling storm. “I can follow easily enough.”
Barlow’s words sounded steady, but his pale face told another story. Silas stopped where he was and said, “We need a break.”
“No time,” Barlow called back. “Darius needs—”
“We don’t even know if he’s alive. Probably isn’t. We have to search for him, but we don’t have to have someone else fall in the rush to get there.”
Barlow caught up with Silas and kept moving past him. “If it’s my time, it’s my time.”
Silas grabbed Barlow’s arm. “Just take a little break. I’ll call the others back. We need a plan, anyway. We can’t just go running recklessy into the dragon’s lair, assuming we’re even lucky enough to find it.”
Barlow yanked his arm free, firmly but without anger. “I told you I was too old for this. I hope you’re right, and I’m not, but I won’t slow us down, not when a life might be on the line.”
Silas sighed and paced his old friend. “I don’t know whether to scold you for being stubborn or stupid.”
“Oh, both, to be sure.” Barlow pointed ahead. “And look, the others have halted on their own. Didn’t need to slow for me after all.”
Silas saw that Barlow spoke the truth, the other three huddled together and conversing. When he and Barlow came up, Xanar pointed to a spot a hundred yards or so ahead of them and to the right. There a great outcropping of rock jutted out of the tundra, one likely visible from great distance when the snow wasn’t swirling as it now was, and in the center of the formation was a large opening.
“Looks like we’ve arrived,” Xanar said.
* * *
Darius had never known anxiety like what he faced while Glaze rested. He couldn’t really be sure the dragon was asleep, or how easily he might wake if he was, and as the long minutes turned to hours he felt like he would burst with the urge to do something while the opportunity was there, to flee or attack. But he fought off his more primal instincts, knowing either action would likely mean his end if the dragon became aware. The fact that the dragon had let Darius retain his sword only added to his suspicion that Glaze was testing him, waiting to see if he snatched at the bait and made a decisive and potentially fatal move. Darius settled for occasionally tossing the small chunks of ice he found on the cave floor to see if Glaze would react to the noise. Except for an infrequent flicking of his ears, he did not.
After what Darius guessed was four or five hours, Glaze finally opened his eyes. He regarded Darius for a time without speaking, showing that toothy dragon smile. “It appears you have not rested.”
“I haven’t slept, if that’s what you mean.”
“I know,” Glaze said, his smile widening. “You’re a patient sort. And now it has paid off. Your friends are outside.”
Darius got to his feet quickly. “They’re here?” he asked, unable to hide his excitement.
“Yes. Perhaps you’d be good enough to call to them. To let them know you are alive, and to tell the mage to come no nearer.”
Darius immediately took up the offer. “I’m down here!” he called. “I’m okay. The dragon is here as well, and warns you to come no closer.”
“Only the mage,” Glaze corrected him. “The others may approach, as they desire.”
Darius hesitated, but saw the dragon’s expression begin to sour. He shouted out the modified instructions, hoping as he did so that they would not answer, not yet anyway. In that hope he wasn’t disappointed.
* * *
They had entered the cave after a brief discussion, Silas and Xanar in the lead, Uesra, Barlow, and Adrianna to the rear. The plan was to move slowly and cautiously, to see if they might approach the dragon unnoticed and thereby be presented with an advantage they might exploit. If confronted, they’d likely need to beat a hasty retreat, although the others feared Xanar would charge in, trying to rescue his friend. Uesra had extracted a promise that he would not do so before they proceeded.
The walls and floor of the cave were of ice, and as they sloped downward the travelers were faced with the added difficulty of keeping their footing. Several long marks were carved into the ice, and these they used to check any slides. After a time, Uesra whispered that these scratches were likely made by the claws of the mighty dragon.
The going was slow and perilous, and when the voice of Darius rang out from somewhere ahead and below, they felt both elation and trepidation. He lived, but had the dragon kept him so only to bait a trap? And any chance they had of sneaking up on the beast was now gone. Xanar made ready to shout back, but Uesra silenced him with an outthrust hand and a shake of her head.
When Darius spoke again, inviting all but Adrianna forward, their concern deepened. Unfortunately, if they wanted to save him, and retrieve the book,
there seemed no other good options.
Silas warned Adrianna back, and pointed to Barlow and then to her, indicating the paladin should stay as well. Barlow feared a trap, but didn’t like being left behind any more than Adrianna, but after a quick grimace, he did what Silas wanted. If it be a ruse, better two were clear.
The others crept forward.
* * *
“I’m surprised you asked for the mage to stay back,” Darius commented. “Someone who didn’t know better would confuse that with a signal of concern, even fear.”
Glaze smiled again, but it was clearly a forced expression. “Mages are dangerous to all, myself included. So, if I sense one is present, I will kill first, ask questions of their companions later. You should be thanking me for holding this one back.”
Darius thought it over, nodded, and said, “Thank you.”
Glaze gave a quick nod of his own, the gesture a slight bow.
“What now?”
“Now we see how creative your friends are.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You will. I want to see if they can reach us. If so, I’ll be impressed.”
Darius, confused, held his tongue.
* * *
Silas, Xanar, and Uesra had only proceeded another hundred and fifty feet down the icy hall when they spotted the chasm. It yawned some twenty feet across, and suddenly the slope of the floor seemed steeper and the ice slicker. From where they stood, thirty feet back, they could make no guess at its depth, but they all assumed the worst.
“Now what?” Silas whispered
Uesra shook her head. Xanar, frustrated, slammed a fist into his own thigh.
Silas looked back. The hall had curved enough that Barlow and Adrianna were out of sight. “If that dragon has another exit and loops around…”
Uesra nodded, but shrugged just the same. “Probably could trap us even without the gap.”
“What should we do?” Xanar asked. “Go back? Call out that we’re stuck?”
“We’ll call,” Silas said. “If we get a response and can be sure the dragon hasn’t moved, then we’ll see what happens next. No answer, we best get out while we can.”
