by Craig Askham
“Then why do they live in the mountains?”
“Because there’s less of us,” Lee replied, immediately. “We drove them here, hunted them until they were nearly extinct, forced them into hiding.” He held up his hands. “Well, maybe not us, exactly, but our Vanguran counterparts. Doesn’t it make you feel warm and fuzzy inside to know that people are evil all over the universe, not just on our own crappy little planet?”
Ben’s attention drifted away from the lecture, not because it wasn’t interesting, but simply because it was a lecture and he was genetically programmed to zone out of lectures. He reached up to the silver dragon clasp that was holding his cloak together at his neck, and unfastened it. Shrugging his shoulders free, he let the heavy piece of clothing fall to his feet and left it there, immediately grateful for the relief it gave him. The previous night’s shivering was already forgotten. He turned his face upwards, and looked at the soaring mountain peaks all around him. They were still covered in snow, but they seemed a million miles away. For all intents and purposes, they might as well have all been standing in a field somewhere thousands of miles to the south, in the middle of summer. Or spring, perhaps. Summer might have been pushing it a little.
“Is this boring you, Akelius?” He jumped a little, Jas Toor’s whisper tickling his earlobe. He looked around, embarrassed, as if he’d been caught napping in class. Nobody was paying attention to him; Lee had actually managed to capture their full attention, even Caspillo’s. He turned his head to look at Jas, but she was already looking at Lee once more, the hint of a smile on her face. He leant towards her, getting as close to her ear as she must have been to his.
“No,” he whispered back. “Just taking a moment to appreciate this place.” She didn’t give any indication that she was listening to him, so he pulled away and tried to focus on Lee’s lecture.
“…so the dragon must have been here at least a week, letting her magic slowly spread across this whole valley, turning it lush and warm, encouraging the grass to grow. Did you know that dragons are omnivores? Don’t get me wrong, this one will eat us right up if she sees us, but she’ll quite happily live off grass and vegetation. The size of this valley suggests to me that we couldn’t have come at a better time. Or worse, depending on which way you look at it. The good news is that I think she’s made a lair here, probably at the other end of the valley near that waterfall, and she’s got a few babies to feed. She wouldn’t have gone to this much effort, otherwise. So if all goes well, you’ll get even more for your money than you thought you would; a dragon’s brood could be up to five of the little beauties, which is something very few people will ever have witnessed.” He held up both thumbs, as if it somehow emphasized how lucky they were. It was Vykron who picked up on the flip side of what he’d said, though.
“Tell us about the worse part, please.”
“Sorry?”
“The part where you said we couldn’t have come at a better time. Or worse, depending on which way you look at it. That part.”
“Well, it’s obvious, ain’t it? Don’t you know anything about nature, and mothers protecting their young?”
“They’re twice as dangerous.” It took a few seconds for Ben to realise it was Talia who had interjected. Her voice was small and unsure, almost like the teacher had picked on her and she’d been forced into an answer she wasn’t sure of, in front of all her classmates who were waiting to laugh at her stupidity. It was most unlike the confident Talia he knew.
“Try ten times as dangerous. If she catches our scent, even suspects we’re here…” Lee left the sentence unfinished, inviting everyone to draw their own, terrible conclusions.
“She won’t suspect we’re here.”
All eyes turned to Jas Toor, hopeful at her confidence.
“How do you know that?” Sorin demanded, scornfully.
“Because that’s why I’m here,” she replied. “You didn’t think my only contribution was to provide the transport, did you? Young man, if you want me to, I can get you so close to that dragon, you could tickle her belly. I wouldn’t advise tickling her belly, of course. I think she’d notice you then, despite my ability to keep you shielded from her. But you take my point, I’m sure. We’re invisible to her right now. If we weren’t, we’d already be lunch. As long as nobody does anything stupid, in particular anything loud, then everything will be just fine.”
Ben found himself staring sidelong at the beautiful magic user with newfound respect. And love. Sorry, Rima, but your cornrows can’t compete with dragon protection. Jas caught him looking, and raised her eyebrow enquiringly. Ben felt colour creeping to his cheeks, and hoped to all the gods of this planet that she hadn’t just read his thoughts. He offered her his best smile to disguise his embarrassment, but the way a tiny gust of wind suddenly made that tuft of hair on top of her head dance made him fall for her all the more. By the time the shadow fell over their whole group, he’d belatedly figured out what had caused the sudden breath of wind that had caused her hair to flutter. Dragon.
He reached out and grasped Jas’s forearm. She was already aware of the danger, and snatched her arm out of his grip so she could press her index finger against her lips.
“Shhhh…”
As one, everyone ducked as if the dragon was about to land on their heads. Everyone except Jas Toor, of course. Confident in her abilities as only she could be, she stood tall, finger still against her lips, craning her neck to see the beast with a smile on her face that was pure joy. In contrast, a small shriek escaped Sorin’s lips before Talia’s hand clamped down over his mouth until he stopped. Even then, she didn’t let go. Overhead the dragon flew, belly on show like a tart’s cleavage, bigger than Sorin’s plane and causing a momentary eclipse. Ben watched her, crouched down and paralysed with fear, not understanding how she hadn’t noticed them. Her red wings were stretched to their furthest span as she glided lazily along, translucent veins hinted at against the sun, and razor thin rays poked through the tiny rips and holes that spoke of battle prowess he daren’t even imagine. She was fast, even just riding whichever current was taking her fancy, and retreating into the distance before any of them had managed to kickstart their hearts. As she got smaller, Ben forced himself back to his feet. He was the first to do so, apart from the enigmatic magic user. He raised a hand to his head to shield his eyes from the sun, and realised he was grinning. The memory that stayed with him was of the dragon’s terrifying talons, huge like elephant tusks and perfect for snatching up humans as if they were mice, but it didn’t stop the grin that had plastered itself across his face, despite the fear. He felt somebody watching him watch the dragon, and didn’t need to look away to know it was Jas and she was appreciating the moment that the two of them were sharing. This, he knew, was as alive as he had ever felt. She knew it, too.
One by one, the rest of their group stood up, some more sheepishly than others. Caspillo was first, trying to fix his go-to look of boredom to his face before anybody noticed. Too late. You’re human, after all. Lee was next, shaking very obviously at the knee but with a look of wonder on his face that suggested bravery trying very hard to overcome a coward’s disposition. Sorin, much to Ben’s amusement, was last. In fact, he had to be yanked to his feet by a new girlfriend who looked far from impressed at having to do so.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” said Lee. “There goes the act that justifies the cost of your admission. Anybody want to go home?” He accompanied the question with a nervous laugh, as if he was making a suggestion that he hoped others would pick up and run with. Nobody did. Speech was still an ability that hadn’t returned. “Anybody?”
Ben lost track of how long they stood like that. Certainly, it was long enough for the dragon to turn into a speck on the horizon. As Lee had predicted, she was headed to the opposite end of the valley. He tried the sums in his head, from the memory of seeing the whole valley stretched out below him from the back of the Kincora. Four hours walk, maybe? Finally, the silence became too much for him. He tr
ied to think of something inspirational to say, failed, and settled for the obvious.
“Let’s get moving.”
Fourteen
Ben was wrong about the length of the walk. They set a decent pace, but by lunchtime it had turned into a trawl. Hunger got the better of them, and they were forced to stop. Just as Ben was wondering where the food was going to be coming from, the soldiers reached into packs underneath their clothes and brought out enough rations to keep them going. There was bread that looked like it had been fresh at some point that wasn’t now, and dried meat that made their jaws ache and tasted like rubber. It seemed the soldiers were there to keep the group alive in more ways than one, but they sure as hell didn’t want to make it easy.
They sat in a meadow so full of buttercups that it was impossible to find a place to sit that didn’t involve flattening at least a dozen. There were enough trees around to provide ample shelter for those wishing to partake of the toileting facilities. They were mostly bare, but evidence of the dragon’s magic was there in the buds that were starting to grow. They were few and far between, as if taken by surprise at being awoken from their happy slumber to perform tricks like monkeys in a circus. Here and there, a handful of birds had been tempted to visit, although from where, Ben hadn’t a clue. In his head, their excited chirping sounded confused, as if they were asking each other what the hell was going on.
They trudged on against the backdrop of soaring, snow-capped mountaintops. They were so close that it was like being in the middle of a city, looking up at monolithic skyscrapers competing in a competition to be the grandest. It really should have been far colder than it was, and the heavy cloaks that had been a godsend on the journey here were quickly turning into a noose around their necks. Finally, Ben could take it no more, and dropped his onto the grass for the second time that day. When eyes turned to look questioningly at him, he gave them a shrug.
“I’ll pick it up on the way back.”
“Not your worst idea,” said Caspillo, and followed suit. A minute or so later, an impressive stack of furry cloaks rested on the grass like a sleeping bear. The only adventurer who stayed wrapped up was Vykron, despite the fine sheen of sweat across a brow that was now set permanently in a scowl. Impatient to continue, he stomped off as if he didn’t care whether anyone followed or not. Ben shared a confused look with Vantalon, who shrugged, and then he caught Caspillo staring thoughtfully at the Russian’s back and couldn’t help but wonder if there was going to be a problem later down the line.
The group continued, following Vykron and steering well clear of his surly temper. Not for the first time, Ben tried falling into step with Jas Toor, ostensibly so that he could ask questions about how her magic worked but, in reality, so that he could try and work his own magic on her. Whatever the reason, though, she was having none of it; she had eyes only for Caspillo, who was happy enough to monopolise her time at everyone else’s expense. Rima was also off-limits, having fallen behind the rear of the group with Meryt after a furtive conversation with Caspillo. Ben looked over his shoulder to see the pair of them with hands resting casually on the hilts of their weapons, trying and failing to not look suspicious. Hoping they were just being overly cautious, he concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other as Vantalon appeared next to him and matched his stride pattern, happy enough to walk without feeling the need to pass the time with idle conversation. Eventually, however, the older man nudged his arm with his shoulder and pointed ahead. The waterfall was in view, an out of place fixture within a verdant valley that was, itself, out of place in these bleak mountains.
“You get the feeling something’s not quite right?”
Ben nodded.
“Wasn’t expecting soldiers, if I’m honest.”
“Or weapons. Won’t be much good against a dragon.”
“True. You seemed to be getting on quite well with Vykron. What’s your take on him?”
Vantalon sighed, and moved his gaze from the waterfall to Vykron’s back.
“I know a cold-hearted killer when I see one,” he said. Ben nodded in agreement.
“I might not have seen as much death as you, but even I can see he’s not here for the dragon watching.”
“Agreed. Stay on your toes.”
They marched on in silence, neither of them the type to speculate further without access to any more useful information. Ben took the other man’s advice, though, trying not to look too obvious as he scanned the wooded sides of the valley for anything untoward.
Another hour passed before Lee quietly called a halt, their steady progress having brought them close enough to the waterfall to hear what sounded more like television static hissing in the background than the roar of water hitting water. It wasn’t a large waterfall by any stretch of the imagination, maybe the height of ten average men stood on each others’ shoulders. It was wide rather than powerful, like a curtain covering a darkness that may or may not have been a cave. If it was a cave, then it was undoubtedly one hell of a squeeze for such a large dragon to fit into. The sides of the valley rose more steeply here, a mix of grass and moss-covered rock that a climber in decent boots would conquer in less than five minutes. The rocks came together to form a ledge over which the water fell, with just enough force to create a fine mist through which the colours of a rainbow were vaguely visible. The pool the water fell into was a decent size; stony, shallow and crystal clear at the edges where the water from above couldn’t reach. There was no escape for the water that Ben could see, so he guessed the stream had some kind of outlet underground. He hoped it lent credence to the idea of a cave, a hope that was buoyed by the presence of a ledge that skirted around the pool and seemingly behind the falling water.
“Come around, guys.” Lee was using his best stage whisper and beckoning with both hands to try and corral his students into a tight semi-circle around him. Everyone except Vykron obliged. He stood off to one side, staring at the waterfall, and Lee pretended not to notice. Ben and Vantalon shared another secret look, the annoying feeling that something wasn’t right growing stronger by the minute. Ben decided to say something vague, just to test Vykron’s reactions, but had only gotten as far as opening his mouth when he felt Caspillo’s presence next to him, uncomfortably close. The words, whatever they were going to have been, died on his lips. The soldier shook his head.
“Don’t get involved. Leave it to us.”
“Leave what to you, exactly?” It was a fair question. Now that he knew there was something strange going on, it seemed natural to want to know what the hell it was. Not as far as Caspillo was concerned, though.
“You’re here for the dragon. Concentrate on that. Have a good time.”
“And what are you here for, Caspillo?”
“To keep you safe, Ben.”
Both his face and his tone were serious, which worried Ben more than the flippant approach he’d already become used to. The soldier had his business head on, and had even broken the golden rule by calling him Ben instead of Akelius.
“And?” The two of them looked each other in the eye for a long time. Finally, Caspillo nodded.
“And to keep the dragon safe.”
“From Vykron?”
“Absolutely. Now shut up and listen to Jokdrath Copperhead, will you?”
Caspillo moved off to join his fellow soldiers. Ben looked over to Vykron, unable to help himself. The Russian caught him in the act and gave him a wink. Ben looked away, sheepishly.
“So make yourselves comfortable,” Lee was saying. “Climb a tree, hide in the grass, hold your breath underwater if you want. But be patient. And quiet. No sudden moves. It might take a few hours to see anything but, you know, there’s bugger all else to do so what have you got to lose?”
The group dispersed after that. The soldiers immediately dropped to the ground and rustled up some dice for a game of kolkka they’d clearly been waiting ages to play, Caspillo included. Nobody else was invited to join, which was just as well because, somewhat ironic
ally, local coin was something Stillwater had failed to stock them up on. Ben drifted over their way to watch them play, but grew bored after less than two minutes and wandered over to a tree instead, sitting down and leaning against its trunk at an angle that allowed him to keep an eye on Vykron. It took a few minutes to realise he was resting his head against the hilt of his katana, rather than the bark of the tree. Less than a minute later he was bored again; the Russian sat by himself at the edge of the rock pool, cross-legged as if meditating, waiting for an opportunity to set in motion whatever schemes he had up his sleeve. Sorin and Talia had taken Lee at his word, and climbed a tree together. Not the one Ben was sat against, thankfully, although the notion was one he wouldn’t put past Sorin. They sat along two sturdy branches with their backs against the trunks, Sorin above Talia of course, dangling their legs below. It was probably just a matter of perspective, but from where Ben was sitting, it looked inevitable that Sorin was eventually going to kick his girlfriend in the head. Each time his boot got close, Ben held his breath, torn between wanting to warn her and wanting to see contact. Eventually he tore his eyes away from the moral dilemma, instead watching Lee standing with Jas Toor at the edge of the rock pool, twenty feet or so to the right of Vykron, and seemingly doing his best to impress her with his dragon knowledge. The magic user nodded at what Ben assumed were the appropriate points in the conversation, and even managed a laugh or two that didn’t carry the distance from them to where he was sat. He shook his head at their guide’s desperate effort, but at least had to give him credit for trying. It was more than he was trying to do, but he supposed his interest was too piqued by Vykron to allow him to spend too much time trying to seduce Jas Toor. After ten minutes or so he felt his eyelids drooping, and wasn’t convinced he had the willpower to stop them.
