Dramilath, still fearing a trap, decided that the risk was worth taking, despite the best counsel of her daughter. Coviche begged her not to accept the invitation of the mage to see the juvenile for herself. But as well as the possibility of another dragon in existence, Dramilath was desperate to know just precisely how Moriallaj knew where to find them. As powerful as Moriallaj had become, he was still no match for the mighty Dramilath of the black dragonflight, so she accepted the offer and returned with the envoy to the Mallam Mountains.
It was a decision she would regret for the rest of her life, however short that may now be.
The goblins feared Dramilath as much in human form as perhaps they did whilst in dragon form, and she believed that she had little to fear from the evil little creatures. As massive a dragon as she was, she had to navigate the corridors and pathways in human form, and nervously they led her through the mountain to the very cavern she unwillingly inhabited now.
When she arrived, the enormous dark cavern was empty except for Moriallaj, who stood at the very centre of the room, awaiting her arrival. Desperate for answers, Dramilath began to question the mage, who simply pointed above her. Suspended a hundred feet in the air was a white dragon, encased in a magical sphere that glowed bright red around its outer edge. Dramilath was astounded: the rumours were true. So eager she was to see the young drake closer, she transformed herself into her massive dragon form to gain a closer look - the sheer size of the cavern allowing her to do so. But when she closely inspected the albino, she realised it for what it truly was – an illusion. There was no dragon; Moriallaj had tricked her.
Raging, Dramilath turned her anger and hatred back to Moriallaj. But instead of fearing for his miserable life, Moriallaj merely grinned at her, which incensed Dramilath even further. She took a deep breath, meaning to incinerate the mage where he stood, but Moriallaj’s plan had worked perfectly.
He quickly cast a spell upon the illusionary albino dragon, returning it into its actual form – the last remaining dragonstone. The artefact pulsed with power and the mage activated it, instantly sapping all the mighty Dramilath’s strength and power in a matter of seconds, and the massive dragon crashed to the ground, too weak to move.
Helpless against the power of the stone, Dramilath could only watch as goblins swarmed around her, busying themselves with securing her to the cavern floor with chains, collars and brackets; the heavy lifting aided by the magic of the mage Moriallaj - who had captured the once-leader of the black dragonflight.
And now Dramilath lay helpless in that exact spot, wondering how much longer the evil little brutes would keep her alive.
She heard the footsteps echoing in the colossal cavern before she saw who owned them, but she suspected it would time for her injections. Her chains rattled as she moved her massive head as far as her restraints would allow in the direction of the footsteps – short, shuffling footsteps growing louder. It was definitely a goblin, she thought. And as he came into her view, it was the goblin she detested more than any other.
It was Moriallaj.
The goblin mage was just four feet tall, yet he stood fearless in front of her as she bared her enormous sharp teeth and growled at him. Moriallaj had dark green skin, was as thin as a rake, and had an evil expression permanently etched on his face. Small, sharp teeth were exposed as he grinned at her wickedly. The skin on his face looked like it had been pulled far too tight over the tiny skull, every bone underneath clearly visible. He had a gold ring through one of his elongated nostrils, and a wisp of white hair was slicked back over his head, showing his elder years. He wore a purple and black linen robe that covered his frail body from neck to toe, a hood hanging loosely at his back. He held aloft a staff that looked like a long piece of old gnarled wood, with a red glowing orb entwined in roots at the top of the magical weapon.
“I trust you are comfortable, my dear?” he asked with a high-pitched but threatening voice. Unable to speak, Dramilath narrowed her eyes in a glare and snorted through huge nostrils.
“I will take that as a yes then. Good. This is a good day, I’m sure you will be pleased to hear. We have finally perfected the cure for the disease you are so cruelly capable of spreading. Yes, I knew you would be pleased.”
Dramilath’s anger was boiling.
Moriallaj continued. “So now all we need is some more of your wonderful dust, if you would be so kind. Quite a lot of dust, in fact. Actually, so much more that we are going to have to increase your medicine so you can produce even more!” He lifted his arms into the air, triumphantly. Her heart sank.
“So, be a good girl and let us have some more of this lovely stuff.” He trotted casually over to the wall nearest where her head rested and lifted his staff. The orb glowed brighter, illuminating the cavern wall. Covering a vast area of the wall was a sparkling sheen of dust, which seemed to make the walls come alive. Moriallaj – immune to the effects of the dust - carefully scraped some of the magical powder into a silk bag.
“Dragon dust!” he excitedly exclaimed. “All thanks to you and that lovely breath of yours. But it’s mine now, and I will soon be gifting it to every member of Southstorm City. Never let it be said that Moriallaj is not generous. And then they will beg me to cure them. I have not yet decided if I will or not, but they will have to surrender to me, nonetheless. This pitiful realm will soon be mine, and all thanks to you!” He laughed so hard he almost fell over.
Incensed, Dramilath mustered all her strength, channelled all her anger and hatred, and could hardly move an inch.
“There, there, my dear. Do not struggle. You need to keep up your strength. But soon you shall rest, yes you will. For soon, I will have need of more of the lovely cure you hold in your glands. But I am close to replicating that, too. Then I will have no need of you any longer.”
He leant towards her and grinned a hideous set of yellow teeth. “Except to keep you as my pet.”
CHAPTER 48 – The Battle for the Bridge
One of the smaller goblins approached, shortsword drawn and pointed at Cerana as she knelt on the metal bridge. He stopped about halfway between her and his allies and looked around, as if not quite sure what he should do next. The tall one still had his bowstring pulled taught; if he released his fingers, she would be killed instantly. She was no longer scared of dying, but the thought of failing Esteri crushed her.
The injured goblin had backed further away across the bridge, leaving a trail of blood from his injured arm. Cerana paid him no mind, as her attentions were fixed on the enemies in front. If the big one did not have the bow, she would fancy her chances against them, even though they outnumbered her three to one. But it would take just a split second for him to release the deadly arrow, so Cerana stayed where she was and waited for them to make their move.
The smaller one with the shortsword took another tentative step forward. He seemed nervous, but Cerana could not fathom why. But it did give her time to think, to try hatch a plan, but as long as the arrow remained pointed at her, she could not think of anything she could do.
“Mistress should not have come here.”
Cerana recognised the squeaky voice instantly. Varros snuck out from behind the two goblins she faced, an evil smile etched on his face. Cerana stiffened, anger boiling inside her.
“Varros, you snake,” she hissed. “I knew I should never have trusted you. I saved your life.”
Varros kept his distance despite Cerana’s hopeless predicament. “But will I save yours, mistress?” he said calmly.
“I doubt it,” she admitted.
“Maybe mistress is right, but maybe she is wrong.”
Cerana was running out of options. She gambled. “Let me go, Varros, and I’ll spare you all.”
The goblins all laughed as one, and Cerana instantly regretted her words. They knew as well as she did - they had her right where they wanted her. She felt foolish.
“Get on with it then!” she yelled, anger boiling inside her again. She stood awkwardly, yet kept her hand
s clasped behind her head. The goblins all twitched, swords bared in her direction, bow tightened a tad more.
“Stay where you are!” the large goblin yelled.
Cerana stood tall and defiant despite the odds. She tried to look confident, yet inside she was terrified. And she had no idea what she should do next.
“Get down!”
The yell from behind her surprised them all, but Cerana – albeit not entirely sure to whom the warning was aimed - reacted first and instinctively dropped to the metal bridge. She heard a hiss fly past her and the large goblin with the bow fell as the arrow thudded into his neck. It caused the goblin to release his hold on the bowstring as he died instantly, its projectile flying past her harmlessly.
The remaining goblins stood open-mouthed and shocked, again unsure what to do. Cerana could not see her saviour who must have been above and behind her judging by the path of the arrow, but she wasted no time in rushing forward and retrieving one of her daggers. She grasped it off the floor as she ran towards the nearest goblin, who held up his shortsword. Revitalised, she easily parried his swing, knocking him off balance, and with one swift stroke, she spun around and buried the dagger deep into his upper chest. He stared at her in disbelief for a second before sliding off the blood-soaked blade and onto the metal bridge as death took him.
She looked up to see Varros had vanished, leaving the one remaining goblin who jumped over the lifeless body of the bowman and screamed as he thundered towards her. Cerana braced herself for the fight, but another arrow fizzed past her and landed with a thud in the top of the onrushing goblin’s chest. He staggered from the impact, yet it still did not stop him charging towards Cerana, the shaft of the arrow protruding from his chest. He was upon her quickly and swung his two-handed sword through the air. Cerana would have been cut in two if she had not jumped back and out of the blade’s path. He came again, swinging a mighty backhand slash towards her which she half-parried, half rolled out of the way, deftly lunging behind him. The goblin turned to face her, but in turning away from the unseen archer, another arrow thudded into his unprotected back. He stopped in his tracks, steadied himself, then fell to his knees, still holding his sword. The goblin somehow managed to haul himself up again and growled a low, guttural noise before half-raising his sword and stepping forward. A third arrow hit him, higher in the back than the second. He dropped his sword, swayed back and forth, then fell forward with a crash onto the metal bridge, splintering the arrow lodged in his chest. Then he moved no more.
Still unable to see the mystery archer, Cerana proceeded past the goblin bowman’s motionless body and down the bridge.
The goblin who suffered the arm injury had managed to crawl almost to the end of the bridge. Before he could escape, he had collapsed and either died or fallen unconscious. A pool of blood emerged from under him, so Cerana figured it was the former.
Relieved that she had once again been saved from almost-certain death, Cerana was keen to learn the identity of her mysterious saviour. Yet when she looked up, only an unoccupied ledge was evident to her. Puzzled, she wiped the blood off her blade onto her breeches and sheathed it before retrieving her other dagger and sheathing that also. She stepped over the lifeless body of the arrow-skewered goblin and inspected the injured goblin with a deft kick. When there was no response, a harder kick convinced Cerana that he was dead also, most likely from the significant loss of blood that was now dripping over the bridge into the lava river below.
She walked towards the end of the bridge, wiping sweat from her brow. A hooded and cloaked figure emerged from the cave entrance in front of her, holding a longbow at their side.
“I owe you my life, stranger.” Cerana nodded her head in respect towards the dark figure, who stopped in the cave entrance. “To whom can I give my heartfelt thanks?”
The figure stepped forward, and Cerana squinted in the low-light to catch a glimpse of the archer.
“Call it payment for all the times you have saved me.”
Cerana recognised the voice, her eyes widening in disbelief. “It cannot surely be…”
The figure lifted the hood back, revealing Jana’s pretty face. She beamed at her sister as tears fell down her cheek.
“JANA!” Cerana and Jana ran to each other and hugged long and hard. “Oooh, owww!” Cerana winced with pain in her ribs from the hug as they released.
“Oh, sorry!” Jana’s concerned face forced a laugh from Cerana. “Are you ok?”
“I’ll live,” said Cerana, rubbing her sore ribs. “I think so, anyway. But only thanks to you! Jana, I thought you were dead, what happened? The house – it was a mess, there was blood….”
“I’ll explain later,” Jana turned serious again. “But now we need to get off this bridge. There are goblins everywhere in here.”
Cerana nodded.
Jana took her hand and led her back towards the cave entrance she had emerged from. “This way,” she said confidently. Jana led them through the passageway in the cave, down a winding corridor through the rock. Eventually, it brought them to a small room, well lit by a sconce on the wall and a metal brazier in the corner. There was another passageway leading off to their left, and to the right, a closed wooden door with black metal studs. Several ceramic pots and jars of various sizes littered the floor, and Cerana thought they could not have seen use for years due to the thick cobwebs that seemed to link them together.
“That door only opens one way,” Jana advised. “Unfortunately, from the other side. I came that way.” She pointed towards a long passageway to the left of where they entered. “We’ll stay here for a while so I can see to those cuts, this is a good place to see anyone coming.”
Cerana was perplexed. “How did you get in here? What cuts?”
“That one there, for a start.” Jana pointed to a gash on Cerana’s shoulder that she hadn’t even seen herself. It had cut through her jerkin, and dried blood crusted a wound that was about two inches long. Upon inspection, however, it was thankfully more superficial than anything else.
Jana also found a gash on Cerana’s lower leg, just below the knee. Again, the material of her breeches had ripped, and a small cut oozed blood down her leg. As Jana began tending to the wound, Cerana’s questioning started again. She had so many questions for her younger sister.
“How long have you been in here? Have you seen Esteri?”
“Not long,” Jana replied. “And no, I haven’t seen Esteri at all, have you? Hold still. I got into this place to find you. What the hell are you doing in here anyway? Hold still!”
Cerana squirmed as Jana pulled tight a length of makeshift bandage she had ripped from her cloak. Cerana realised that Jana did not know about Esteri. “She’s in here, Jana. Esteri was taken because of that bloody disease she has.”
“What? By who?” Jana tied off the bandage and Cerana rolled the leg of her breeches carefully down over the dressing. It stung, but there was no lasting harm.
Cerana told Jana the whole story – her trial, being saved by Coviche, Blackwood and Varros, Moriallaj, and how Coviche had forewarned of Jana’s disappearance and apparent death. Jana listed with intent and no small amount of incredulity.
“Well, I’m certainly not dead. And it was your dragon-friend that got me in here.”
“She did?” Cerana said. “So what happened at the house?”
“Two of those bastard goblins came for me, the night after you got arrested. Luckily, I was awake – heard them break in, clumsy sods. I took one by surprise, knocked him out cold. The other was more tricky, but I killed him. I fucking killed him, C. Took a knife to bed with me, I was so scared. Bloody glad I did now, too. Otherwise, I would have been dead, or kidnapped again. Had to drag the little shit out of the house, but before I could get back in, some of those guards turned up at the house, like the ones who took you. They looked real pissed, so I hid. It was the middle of the night, so they never found me outside in the dark. But they didn’t leave, stayed in the house. I reckon now they were proba
bly expecting you to come back after you escaped them, but I didn’t know that so I ran. Stole a horse from the village and rode for Southstorm, figured that was where they had taken you.”
A sudden noise from the corridor alerted the sisters, but there was no sign of any activity.
“Must have been a rat,” Jana said calmly before continuing her story. “Anyway, before I got to the city, the road was blocked by the guards. So I had to go around, up near Otterley. But then the strangest thing happened. She spoke to me, C. In my head. The dragon-girl. I thought I was going mad, but it was so real, like she was stood there right next to me. Told me you were in grave danger, and only I could help. Told me to come to the mountains. Honestly C, I’ve never felt anything like it. Wasn’t until I met her that I realised I wasn’t going mad. But she didn’t tell me anything about being a bloody dragon!”
“She’s got quite a way about her,” Cerana said.
“Tell me about it! Anyway, she said that she could no longer sense your presence or something.”
“She told me that about you, too. How did you get past the lava?” Cerana was certain that Jana would not have crossed the river the way she had done.
“Didn’t have to. I went in another way to you. She found another entrance, took me straight to the dragon. Her mother, I presume now.”
“You’ve seen the mother?!” Cerana was astonished. So it was true, she thought.
“Yes, she’s enormous, C. But she’s in like a trance or something, and chained to the ground.”
“Where?”
“There’s a massive cavern further in the mountain. She’s in there.”
“But there’s no sign of Esteri?”
“No, but she could be anywhere. This place is massive.”
The Kiss From a Dragon Page 26
