Curse of the Dragon Kings

by Anne Spackman

  **Can't abide Scathaechir, in any case.** Olierin silenced them. **It was his fault in the first place, but he still won't leave us alone. He even tried to steal our fledgling.**

  Fearing the Emerald Dragon King was about to launch into another tale of woe about their youngest, Gil coughed loudly to clear his throat.

  **Galanor will be searching for me. I ought to go find him.** Gil said.

  **Oh no, that won't do. That won't do at all.** Olierin protested pleasantly. **We can't let you leave, Gil, or the monsters out there will have you for dinner. And I don't mean for your entertainment,** he added. **There's a nuckelavee roaming about some place, and fresh water monsters, land serpents—**

  **Nasty, bogle pests!** Vertilio put in. Olierin eyed him, disapproving the interruption.

  "**Bogles, yes, and evil sprites,** Olierin continued. **Tramping giants and ogres, cannibal plants, giant boars— though the boars are quite tasty! And cruel fairies that throw forget dust and cause one to lose the way back to the nest— No, no. Surely you don't want to go out in all that!**

  Gil sighed. He wasn't entirely sure that the Emerald Dragons would play hosts much longer, either. After all, even if they had once been these Dragorians they claimed to be, they had long since been set in their dragon ways, and that meant eating adventurers like Gil.

  **I smell a dragon!** Wistid called suddenly. **Coming towards us.**

  The others stopped, sniffing the air. Several of them jumped up to protect their King, and Gil peered cautiously toward the direction where they were looking.

  Suddenly, Aiovel emerged from the trees.

  **Who are you?** Olierin bellowed beside Gil, still sniffing.

  **She's— she's a—** one of them began.

  **Smells like a dragon,** Wistid said.

  **No, like a Silver Elf,** Vertilio countered.

  **It can't be!** Olierin cried, drawing himself up to full height. His keen eyes peered forward as Aiovel pulled back her cloak. Olierin puffed into the dark, illuminating her green-gold eyes. The great dragon drew back as if from hot coals. **Like the eyes of Dragoras himself!** Olierin exclaimed sadly, suddenly remembering the ancient King of Dragons and the glorious city of the Dragorians, and as he remembered, his voice took on a bittersweet majesty that sent shivers down Gil’s spine. **So, the Queen of Dragorians survived after all.**

  * * * * *

  "Are we never to rest tonight?" Mygdewyn griped. The moon had risen, and though he had slept most of the day away in the Black Dragons' cave, he was considerably tired.

  "Ah, sleep if you want to," Lilia said, pouting. "Galanor still hasn't answered all of my questions!" Galanor grimaced weakly, but Lilia refused to cower. "I don't fancy being gobbled by anything stupider than I am," she whined, receiving a glare from Galanor. "But if you don't care, Mygdewyn, then go ahead. Go to sleep."

  "I can't with all the noise you're making," Mygdewyn huffed, still sitting by the fire.

  "Now, Galanor," Lilia urged. "About the evil dragons?"

  "Ah yes, Fire Dragons," Galanor replied. "I hope to avoid them by keeping away from the eastern Black Mountains."

  "They live in the Black Mountains?" Lilia looked over her shoulder.

  "Not that they can't be found elsewhere," Galanor amended hastily, "but they have to live in deep caves— their breath is the hottest, you know, and they have a tendency to destroy any other kind of home.

  "I only met one once— and he had an awful, quick temper; thankfully I managed to get away, since he was rather stupid. I told him so, but he seemed a bit thick-skinned about it. Of course he would have to be, to protect himself from his own heat— still, Fire Dragons seem to have a nasty habit of burning themselves. That's why they're all crimson."

  "Why did you suggest traveling so close to their territory, then?" Dylan asked, remembering that Galanor wanted to follow the River of Argolen.

  "To avoid other dragons." Galanor replied, shrugging. "There are far more cunning and dangerous dragons about these eastern lands, and that is of course why Aiovel won't go south through the deserts and grasslands. The Sand dragons live there, you see."

  "Sand dragons?" Lilia shivered.

  "Yes," Galanor nodded. "Sand Dragons are like enormous salamanders, long and stream-lined, and have sharp, short claws to swim through sand. They cannot fly, for their wings have shrunk. Yet they are dangerously crafty, and the second quickest of dragons."

  "The second quickest?" Lilia inquired. "So who's faster? The Ice Dragons?"

  "No, the white Wind Dragons, of course." Galanor said. "They're the best flyers. Yes, even better than we Ice Dragons. They might fly for ten hours a day in the air if they wish. Wind Dragons live in high altitudes, being able to tolerate the cold well, though not as well as Ice Dragons—

  "We get the point." Mygdewyn interjected.

  "Wind Dragons aren't scaly, of course," Galanor resumed, "but thick-skinned to protect from the cold, and hard to insult as you can imagine. Melesian is their King, and he's very cunning, but the others tend to be a bit flighty."

  "You mean they could swoop down on us without us knowing?" Lilia looked up and around nervously.

  "You should fear the Earth Dragons more." Galanor said, gesturing down at the ground. "They live around here. They aren't as fast, but infinitely more deceptive. Their scales make a pattern that looks like rocks strewn across soft brown dirt, or the rugged face of a cliff— but even though they look vulnerable, they can't be harmed from above. On the other hand," Galanor winked conspiratorially, "their underbellies are soft to allow them to settle into the ground. So Earth dragons tend to keep a low profile when other dragons are around."

  "You dragons seem to know each other's weaknesses," Ronan observed.

  "Yes, well, what I didn't know I learned from Olierin when I met him several years ago— including my own observations about Emerald Dragons," he added, laughing. "Olierin can't stand Earth Dragons, since they interfere with his territory."

  "I think I'll stick to water." Lilia shivered. "We Sea Elves don't care for dirt."

  "Ah." Galanor grinned. "There you might encounter a Water Dragon."

  "A Water Dragon?" Lilia asked.

  "Yes. They don't even make a sound when they swim."

  Lilia blanched, her face turning a paler green.

  "Don't worry, Lilia, they're harmless creatures!" Galanor said, laughing, clapping her on the shoulder. "You'll probably only ever see them in Dragorian form— like me." He reassured her. "As for the others, well... Gold Dragons will probably be in that form as well, though they're such stay-at-homes. You probably wouldn't be able to tell if you saw one, anyway; most people think they look like Faerie Elves, with their gold hair.

  "And though I've never met a Sun Dragon, I hear Sun Dragons' scales are supposed to be so reflective that they blind their victims. I think they're orange-yellow, with a bright red crown. You don't see them much at night, though." He admitted, gesturing around in the dark.

  "Thank goodness!" Lilia cried.

  Footsteps approached wthout warning; Galanor stopped and turned around. Dylan drew himself up, his hand on his sword. Mygdewyn stilled, listening, one hand on his axe. Lilia sat very still and made ready to draw her shadow cloak over her head.

  "You wouldn't believe what a hard time I had finding him!" Aiovel called suddenly, surprising the company as she and Gil appeared in the camp. Lilia let go of her hood and rushed over to hug Gil.

  "Never thought I'd see you again," she laughed, not letting him go despite his obvious embarassment.

  Galanor smirked. "Gil seems in a bit of shock. Don't tell me—"

  "She turned into a dragon!" Gil said, shaking his head in disbelief. "A great golden creature she was, then—" he stopped, suddenly blushing.

  Dylan remembered Galanor's transformation back into Dragorian form and ima
gined Gil had seen something of far more interest. Just his luck to miss that one!

  "I landed over there in the fields." Aiovel said, nodding. "Gil was really tired, and I didn't want him to let go. I think the Emerald Dragons I found him with must have been talking his ears off half the day."

  "Old Olierin never changes!" Galanor laughed. "It's a good thing you found him. Those Emerald Dragons are a fickle crew."

  "Why didn't they eat him?" Mygdewyn wondered aloud.

  "I gave Gil the Ring of Dragontongues before we were separated." Aiovel said and shrugged. "Gil already had Olierin eating out of his hand before I arrived— so to speak."

  "I imagine it was the other way around." Galanor said, chuckling. "But what took you so long finding him? If he had the ring with him, he should have been easy to locate," Galanor added, confused.

  "Yes, he should have been." Aiovel agreed. "But it seems there is magic around our young friend that prevents him from being found."

  "Stronger than the Ring of Dragontongues?" Galanor's eyes widened. He shook his head, laughing wanly, but could not hide his strange anxiety.

  "It's a curious thing," Aiovel admitted absently, nodding. "Well, I wandered well past sunset looking about for our young friend. Then I remembered what Ronan had said about the Emerald Dragons passing nearby, and I thought I'd risk a visit to their late summer nest just to see if they had any news. Olierin may not have told me if he'd seen Gil, but the Emerald Dragons have no love for Scathaechir, that much I knew. That alone seemed reason enough to trust them."

  "Did Olierin recognize you?" Galanor asked, in a low, grave tone.

  "Yes, Olierin knows I'm still alive now," Aiovel replied. "I couldn't conceal my identity from him and rescue Gil."

  "Why is that such a bad thing?" Mygdewyn asked.

  "Remember what I told you about the Emerald Dragon King?" Galanor asked. "He can't keep his mouth shut. All of the Emerald Dragons of this area will know that Aiovel is here very soon, but at least dragons don't like to speak of their affairs to others— unless they are asked directly. It's the direct part I'm worried about. Ask Olierin the right question, and he's sure to tell you the answer." Galanor nodded. "Actually, I'm more concerned that Aiovel slighted Scathaechir. While Galadon has no spies here in the wilderness except his monster horde, and we destroyed the only troop of those in this area, we can't rely on Scathaechir's silence forever."

  "So we don't have very much time, then, for Aiovel to reach Dun Rigor unnoticed?" Lilia interrupted, tugging at Galanor's sleeve.

  "I'm afraid not," Galanor replied.

  "Well then," Lilia said, her lower lip pursed. "Now can we go into the ruins?"

  Galanor nodded. Lilia's face broke into a smile.

  "But it's the middle of the night!" Mygdewyn grumped as the others headed toward the castle.

  * * * * *

  The Great Gate of the city of Argolen held fast. The companions searched for another way inside. They found an ancient breach in the outer rampart to the left of the gate, which seemed to have become the city's main thoroughfare for the small, harmless animals that did not fear the power of the ghosts that haunted the city. Aiovel led the companions inside, picking her way over piles of rubble and animal droppings.

  The outer wall of the castle was about ten feet thick. They certainly didn't want to meet whatever creature had been able to knock a whole through it, Dylan thought. Aiovel raised her arms, and her hands glowed with a pale white light. With a gesture, she threw the light into the air. The glowing orb she had created cast a silver light somewhat brighter than moonlight on this part of the city. It was a simple spell, but effective.

  As they emerged into a grand city built around the castle grounds, Lilia whistled.

  "Wow! Just look at all of these old buildings. Drat! It'll take us forever to find anything in here!" she added, growing dejected. It was true, there were too many places to wander about aimlessly in; they simply didn't have the time, if Aiovel was trying to hurry east. The entire city of Argolen appeared to have been built with the same great blocks of silvery grey stone as the outer wall. They glimmered in Aiovel's silver light.

  "How sad." Dylan shook his head thoughtfully, eyeing the cobbled stone pathways twisting through the great city. Weeds and bushes now peeked through where the stones had been broken. With a trained eye, he admired the craftsmanship of the architecture, the tall towers, and the once decorative statues and fountains further along the road. "It looks as though this was once a really nice place."

  "So, where to?" Mygdewyn asked.

  Aiovel shrugged. "When Galadon's dragon armies and monster horde destroyed Argolen, they did not remain long after my mother appeared. They dropped much of their plunder in a hasty retreat— just ask Galanor. He found treasure lying around here last time we came."

  Mygdewyn turned to the dragon. "So, Galanor, where do we go?"

  Galanor shook his head. "I don't know. I wandered about a long time, mostly by the outer walls of the city. I left a lot of treasure behind that I couldn't carry, but that was many years ago."

  "Convenient memory loss," the dwarf grumbled.

  "Be patient, Mygdewyn," Ronan said gently. Kneeling down and placing a hand on a large stone by the wall, Ronan closed his eyes, and a pale white aura surrounded him. He shivered as the mists circled around him and grew tighter. A moment later, the vapors erupted outward and spread out across the city.

  "What was that all about?" Lilia asked.

  "I was communicating to all of the stones of the city through this one. They will guide us to the treasures outside the castle." He said.

  "I thought you said stones were stupid and disagreeable." Dylan put in.

  "Most are," Ronan agreed. "But these ones have been most helpful."

  "So, there aren't any treasures inside the castle?" Lilia eyed Ronan dubiously.

  "Yes, actually, there are," the elf admitted. "Far more than there are on the grounds. But I wouldn't go in there—" he shivered again. "The creature that haunts that place is not agreeably disposed towards strangers."

  Lilia moved toward the nearest of Ronan's white markers illuminating the stones of a nearby building. But when she stopped to check the door, she found it locked.

  "You should be glad you have an expert treasure hunter with you," she beamed, pulling a set of lock picks from inside her cloak. A moment later, Lilia heard the lock click and smiled in satisfaction. "There we go," she said.

  It took them a great while to find the stash of gold and silver behind the fireplace in what appeared to be the former guard's residence. Lilia beamed ear to ear as she ran her fingers through the coins that had tumbled out of an old, rotted sack.

  "Don't stop to count it now," she said to Mygdewyn, who had pulled out a bag and appeared ready to do just that.

  "Yes, Mygdewyn, put the bag away," the smooth, honeyed voice of Rodruban said from behind the others. "Now isn't the time to hang about. I feel the chaos lingering around this place— and while I rather like it, for it seems to have strengthened my senses and abilities— it may be rather dangerous to stay here. We ought to keep moving."

  Lilia spat. He'd done it to her again! Blast that Rodruban! she thought darkly. He knew she'd been waiting to see his transformation. She wanted to know if it were a gradual change, or if the elf suddenly turned into the human like a spell of transformation taking effect.

  "I have to admit," Galanor said reluctantly, "I agree with the druid."

  * * * * *

  A few hours later, shortly before sunrise, the company made camp in a barn that had been an armory long ago. A thick layer of dirt submerged the ancient stone floor. Their steps kicked up billowing grey clouds that settled on their cloaks like fine mist.

  Lilia lay awake a while thinking about the treasure they'd already found. After the sack of gold, Rodruban had led them to a
jeweler's secret horde, a set of white gold flatware still on the table in a merchant's house, and a shop filled with finely crafted silver trinkets: tinkling bell, silver statuettes, circlets, pins, and clasps.

  Lilia had been disappointed with their last stop; they'd discovered a stock of what had obviously been costly tapestries, but they simply fell apart whenever they were touched, despite the power of the wraith's preservation spell. It seemed the spell had its limits and could only slow the effects of time on the castle. Soon afterward, they had gone to the armory, where they had picked up several nice inlaid swords and daggers, and one broadsword still unfinished by the bellows.

  After being awake so long— since the watch that morning when she and Ronan had been attacked— Lilia began to drift off, grateful that Aiovel and Galanor had offered to keep watch all night and let the others catch up on their much needed rest. She supposed dragons didn't need to sleep as much as ordinary people did, or else they made up for it later by sleeping years away in their nests. She didn't really care. If Aiovel insisted on keeping watch with Galanor, Lilia wasn't about to argue.

  After the excitement of the long day, Gil also found he couldn't sleep, though at first he wasn't sure why he should be so restless. After all, they'd already found enough treasure that Gil would never have to return to the Pegasus. Then he realized what it was that was bothering him.

  They'd found Argolen— and the treasures Aiovel had promised them. But how did Aiovel know that the others wouldn't abandon her when they left the city, now that they had what they wanted? Gil considered that. Lilia might abandon her, but would the others? He doubted the Prince of Dunlaith would; Dylan was a man of honor, and acutely aware of the binding power of his word. But Mygdewyn? Aiovel had also saved Mygdewyn's life, but the dwarf wouldn't necessarily want to risk losing it again. And wherever Mygdewyn went, Ronan went, too. If they lost the dwarf, they lost their healer as well.

  As for Gil himself, there was no question of his turning back.

  Gil fumbled in his shirt for the silver ring Aiovel had given him that morning. As he fingered it, he wondered why she had not asked him to return it yet.

  The Ring of Dragontongues, crafted in the city of Dragoras, he remembered, feeling the smooth but finely engraved surface. Lilia had been telling Gil about Galanor's story as they walked, the parts Gil hadn't learned from the Emerald Dragons. But he hadn't really believed old Olierin until Aiovel turned into a dragon before his eyes.