Legends of the Lurker Box Set

by Richard H. Stephens

  Silence drifted much higher, her sharp eyesight constantly scanning. Junior was amazed at how the purple dragon floated in the air without ever beating her wings.

  “Has Raver been to Draakhall before?”

  “Not that I’m aware of. The boat Reecah sailed followed a northerly direction. It’ll have to make landfall somewhere. We just have to follow the coastline and investigate every port.”

  Junior nodded. He hadn’t thought of it that way. Scanning the line of mountains south and east he wondered if they would ever see habitable land again. He stared at the glistening water north and west, stretching to the horizon without end, and experienced a sensation of unworthiness. Who was he, a disowned child from a backward community, to sail through the skies on the wings of a dragon, thinking he could rescue Reecah from the clutches of the dark heir?

  “Silence sees something,” Lurker’s voice startled him from his reverie. Junior wasn’t sure who his mount spoke to. He couldn’t figure out whether everyone in their party heard each other all the time, or if they were able to hone in on one mind.

  Swoop gained altitude to join the purple dragon, her form a mere speck in the sky above.

  “Looks to be two volcanoes smoking in the distance,” Lurker said.

  Junior strained to sit higher on Lurker’s shoulder and nearly lost his balance. If not for Lurker compensating for the sudden weight shift, he may have fallen to his death.

  “You’re choking me again,” Lurker gasped.

  Junior eased his stranglehold. “Sorry.”

  Lurker flapped several times to maintain a steady altitude. “I need to land soon.”

  Raver called out twice, his raspy caw far below.

  Junior swore the bird had repeated Lurker’s last two words.

  “Silence thinks we’re approaching the Draakval Colony,” Swoop’s rough, female voice replaced Lurker’s.

  “How does she know that?”

  “She didn’t say, but she knows a lot more than you or I.”

  Junior pondered that. “Another dragon colony?”

  Swoop’s voice answered, “Dragon Home is considered by dragons everywhere as the birthplace of dragons. I’m sure Silence will correct me if I’m wrong, but I believe our colony, the Draakclaw Colony, is the oldest one in the Great Kingdom.” She paused for a few moments; her voice subdued as she added, “At least it was. Over the centuries, several groups of dragons left Draakclaw to form new colonies.”

  Fear of flying past a dragon colony tightened Junior’s grip around Lurker’s neck. “That’s a good thing then. Right?”

  The lack of response spoke volumes.

  “Why? What’s wrong?”

  Swoop dropped headfirst from on high like an avalanche, the wind snapping at her leather wings as she levelled off beside them.

  Junior hoped he never got the chance to fly the brown dragon.

  “The Draakval Colony is inhabited by rogue dragons.”

  The phrase, ‘rogue dragons,’ echoed in Junior’s mind.

  Swoop craned her neck, her light green eyes on Lurker and him. “We’d best avoid them if we can.”

  Other than her many horns, Swoop’s colouring wasn’t much different than Lurker’s. A little browner than green, but from a distance, Junior wasn’t sure he’d be able to tell them apart.

  “I need to land soon.”

  The gravity in Lurker’s voice made Junior tighten his hold.

  “Though, if Junior keeps squeezing, we’ll be hitting the ground in short order.”

  “Sorry! Sorry. I can’t help myself.” Junior adjusted his grip for the countless time. There had to be a better way to fly a dragon than clinging to its neck and praying you didn’t fall off. He couldn’t imagine how hard it would be in the rain.

  “Then we should find a place to land. According to Silence, if we don’t find Draakhall soon, we’ll have to either fly inland or out to sea to avoid Draakval.” Swoop curled her wingtips and shot high above. “I’ll tell her we’re landing.”

  Watching Swoop soar almost out of sight, her parting comment resonated with Junior. He searched the sky and noted that Silence had flown higher—almost out of sight. The dragons must have a limit as to how far they projected their thoughts.

  A sudden loss in elevation disconcerted him. Clinging tight, he watched Swoop plummet past them with Silence descending at a more reasonable rate.

  “I’m choking.”

  “You need to tell me when we’re about to change direction. I thought I was falling.”

  “I’ll try to remember that.”

  Lurker set down in a wide glen near the top of the closest mountain.

  Junior slid from his back, rubbing at his aching posterior before Lurker’s wings had settled. The familiar chinking of his chainmail sounded behind him as Swoop released his gear and dropped into the tall grass. A breeze swept across the mountain face, providing him little respite from the bone-chilling cold he had experienced in the air. He searched the clearing and the sky above. “Where’s Silence?”

  “Gone to scout ahead,” Swoop answered.

  Thinking to don his lined armour to garner some warmth before they set off again, he asked, “How long are we going to wait here?”

  “Depends on what Silence reports.”

  Shivers wracked his body, making the decision for him. He walked past Swoop, removed his surcoat, and pulled his chainmail over his head—the metal links cold on his exposed skin.

  Swoop watched him struggle. “Glad I don’t have to do that every time I want to protect myself.”

  Junior thought Lurker laughed.

  “You’re not kidding. Scales are much more convenient. That looks like trouble.”

  Junior popped his head through the neck hole and glanced at the dragons. Ignoring them, he pulled at the bound chinks until the knee-length hauberk hung properly. Slipping into his surcoat, he buckled his sword belt in place.

  The battle at the Dragon Temple was still fresh in Junior’s mind. The image of the king’s men facing the dragon assault on the ridge across from Dragon Home wouldn’t leave him. The senseless carnage on both sides was such a waste of life.

  “Don’t you think we should warn the Draakval Colony? Like them or not, Prince J’kwaad will be coming for them. If he hasn’t already.”

  Swoop and Lurker exchanged looks.

  Lurker nodded. “That’s a good point.”

  Junior walked up to them—something he would have never dreamt of doing a couple of days ago. “If dragons are going to survive the high king’s edict, you need to put aside your differences and join forces.”

  “What about Reecah?” Swoop asked. “If she can convince the king of his folly, we won’t have anything to worry about.”

  Junior wanted to believe that, but Reecah had no experience in negotiating as far as he knew. As great a person as she was, he doubted that would be enough to avert the high king’s decision to exterminate the dragon population. By destroying the Draakclaw Colony, the line had been drawn.

  If any other dragons had survived the slaughter besides these three, Junior didn’t doubt they would harbour a deep bitterness toward the royal seat. He was surprised Lurker, Swoop, and Silence had taken the defeat so well.

  “If the Draakval Colony hasn’t been hit, we need to tell them about their approaching peril.”

  “I agree.” Swoop turned her gaze on Lurker. “See? I told you we shouldn’t eat him.”

  Raver called out from the branches of a nearby bush, “Eat him! Eat him!”

  Lurker swung his head from Junior to the raven. “Time will tell. If anything happens to Reecah…”

  A hair-raising screech split the mountain air. Junior jumped to his feet and withdrew his sword, cringing as the pain behind his shoulder gripped him.

  Lurker and Swoop craned their necks, searching the sky.

  Raver emerged from the tall grass and landed awkwardly on top of a bush, his hooked beak indicating the direction of the disturbance.

  High above
Junior’s small campfire of smoking reeds and other refuse he had foraged, a massive, red dragon shrieked as a smaller, brown dragon blasted it with flames.

  At first, Junior thought Scarletclaws had found them, but there was no way the massive red beast could be her. The red dragon deflected the fire with a wing, but the action caused it to fall from the sky. Dropping from harm’s way, it spread its wings wide, swooping low over the far end of the glen.

  The brown dragon dove after it.

  Shocked, Junior marvelled at how the smaller brown dominated the monstrous red.

  The red dragon barely missed hitting the ground before skimming the high grasses. Approaching the point where the mountain peak rose overhead, the red dragon climbed into the air.

  The brown dragon slammed into its neck like it had been shot from a ballista—bared teeth hammering into the red’s neck and driving it to the ground.

  Swoop stepped back and forth. “Should we intervene?”

  “No. We don’t know what they’re fighting about.” Lurker searched the sky. “Nor do we know if there are more.”

  Lurker had no sooner finishing speaking than another brown dragon curled around the peak and shot into the glen, its feet driving into the red’s hind legs, knocking it sideways.

  Junior took a few steps toward the battle. “That dragon doesn’t have front legs.” He squinted, trying to follow the rapid movement of the original brown. “I don’t think the other one does either.”

  “Those are wyverns,” Lurker said as if it was common knowledge.

  Junior mouthed the word, ‘Wyverns.’ “What’s that?”

  “A dragon without front legs. According to Mother, wyverns are related to us. Because of their difference in appearance and size, they are usually shunned by what some call real dragons.”

  He pondered Lurker’s answer. The more he learned about dragons, the more he realized they weren’t much different than people.

  “Are wyverns stronger than dragons?”

  Both Swoop and Lurker cast brooding glares his way.

  “Okay, okay. Geesh.”

  The red dragon emitted a terrible screech.

  Lurker spread his wings and prepared to take to the air. “Come on, we’d better intervene. He’s outnumbered.”

  Swoop jumped into the air close behind him.

  Junior watched them go, not sure he should follow. Stepping between five fighting dragons bristling with dagger-sized teeth and sword-length claws didn’t strike him as a wise thing to do. There was also the fiery breath to consider. He didn’t think Lurker or Swoop possessed the ability to spew flames yet, but the first wyvern had demonstrated its capability.

  He ran a hand over his hauberk. Fat lot of good shiny chain links would be against dragon fire. Shaking his head, he knew he had to do something. If Lurker and Swoop perished, he would be hard-pressed finding his way out of the mountains before succumbing to the elements or worse.

  The image of a brown-haired, hazel-eyed, young woman flashed through his mind. It would break Reecah’s heart if anything were to happen to Lurker or Swoop.

  He approached the bush Raver sat on, unsure whether the bird would understand him. “Raver. I need you to get word to Reecah.”

  Raver turned his beady eyes on him.

  “Yes, Reecah. You know who I’m talking about, don’t you? I need you to find her.”

  Raver tilted his head.

  “Tell her we’re coming. She needs to lie low until we get there. Can you do that for me?”

  Raver blinked.

  The red dragon’s shriek made the hair on his arms stand.

  His attention on the imposing dragon, Raver startled him, cawing twice and jumping into the air, winging his way toward the distant ocean. He followed Raver’s progress until the bird disappeared beyond the bulk of the mountain.

  Heaving a big sigh, he hoisted his sword, ignoring the pain, and ran across the glen—shouting more to bolster his own courage than to have any effect on the combatants.

  Lurker joined the fray, followed closely by a dive-bombing Swoop.

  The wyverns shrieked and gnashed at them—the distraction allowing the bigger red to get its feet under it. It grabbed the wyvern about to spew fire at Lurker by the wing and tossed it aside.

  The wyvern wrestling with Swoop disengaged and confronted the red dragon, spurting a small bout of orange flame.

  Junior slowed his run and raised his sword as all dragon eyes turned on his insignificant form. A shadow passed close by his head, dropping him to his knees.

  Silence appeared between him and the closest wyvern, removing him from harm’s way.

  “Enough!” he shouted.

  Silence craned her neck to eye him with all the others.

  Six sets of dragon eyes bore into him.

  He gulped the little moisture he had left in his mouth and walked around Silence. “This is senseless. We need to come together, not tear each other apart.”

  The red dragon appeared on the verge of blasting him.

  Lurker stepped in between. “Kill our friend and we’ll leave the wyverns to finish you.”

  The red dragon’s crimson eyes narrowed. “You protect a human? Have you not learned the age-old lesson? They aren’t to be trusted? Why do you think the colonies are divided?”

  The new voice grated in his head, its presence distracting him for a moment. He absently wondered how he could hear it.

  “This one’s different,” Lurker answered.

  “You can’t be serious. Look at him. Turn your back and he’ll stick that steel tooth in it. Let me finish him and we’ll continue this discussion as brethren.” The red dragon’s eyes narrowed further, glancing at the wyverns. “Perhaps after we rid ourselves of the wyrms.”

  Lurker shuffled his feet, turning his back on the red dragon towering over the rest of the group. “Let’s go then. Red obviously doesn’t require assistance.”

  The wyverns hissed, lowering their heads to the ground and edging toward the red.

  Red snapped at the closest wyvern. “Wait!”

  Lurker stopped but didn’t turn around.

  “For the benefit of the wretched creature with the sword, my human name is Lasair. I shouldn’t need to remind you that dragons should help each other without hesitation, not abandon one of your own to these beasts.”

  The original wyvern shook his head. “You attacked my sister.”

  Junior glanced from one dragon to another, trying to follow the conversation. Somehow, he was able to hear everyone speaking. Scanning the winged beasts assembled around him, as far as he was concerned, a dragon was a dragon, regardless of how many legs it had.

  “She flew close to me,” Lasair said with disgust, as if that was all the explanation he needed.

  The male wyvern was incredulous. “We were descending the other side of the mountain.”

  “Makes no difference. Wyverns should know to stay clear of dragon territory. Anything on that mountain belongs to us.”

  The male wyvern didn’t respond.

  The dragon nodded. “Yes. You see your folly now that it is too late. I will be sure to report your treachery to Demonic. Our elder will require retribution for your transgression.”

  The male wyvern bristled. “For what? Being attacked?”

  “As is my right.”

  “Not when it involves my sister.”

  “Wyverns have no place telling a dragon—”

  “Enough!” Junior pointed his sword at the red dragon. An inner voice screamed at him about how foolish it was to brandish a sword at a creature capable of spewing fire.

  “While you argue petty differences, the high king plots your destruction.” He pointed the sword at the wyverns. “And yours too, if I have the right of it.”

  The female wyvern’s voice sounded meek, but her words were anything but, “That is no concern to us. Let the king destroy the dragons. Flea and myself would be eternally grateful.”

  The male wyvern, Flea, nodded and ambled on his back legs t
oward his sister, using his wingtips to steady him.

  Lasair’s crimson eyes tracked Flea.

  Junior shook his head. “The king’s men won’t differentiate between wyverns and dragons. When they come, they’ll kill anything bigger than a hawk.”

  “The human speaks truth.” Lurker directed his gaze at Lasair. “Dragon Home is no more. We need to speak with Elder Demonic and warn him that what happened to our colony will soon happen to yours.” He swung his head to Flea and his sister. “And yours.”

  Lasair appeared shaken by the news, but he said with conviction, “Demonic will kill you on sight. Especially if you bring the vermin along.”

  Before Lurker responded, Flea agreed. “Nor will Crookedfang allow you anywhere near Mount Gloom, with or without your human.”

  Lurker’s proposal to visit the Draakval Colony didn’t sound like a good idea to Junior. Not after hearing Lasair’s assertion of their hatred for mankind. He dropped his sword tip to the ground and gaped at Lurker as the green dragon’s next words sunk in.

  “Nonetheless, if you wish our help, I demand you take us to Demonic. Your future depends on it.”

  Gift from the Gods

  Reecah wondered what had become of her little friend, Raver. The emptiness in her heart was more profound than anything she had experienced since the day Grammy died. Sitting before a small campfire, not far inside the perimeter of King’s Wood, she contemplated what to do next.

  Returning to Draakhall while the dark heir was present wasn’t a wise choice. If he recognized her from the Dragon Temple, her quest to save the dragons would stop right there. But, by doing nothing, the result amounted to the same. She had to find a way into the castle, or, at the very least, be prepared for when the high king left Draakhall’s brooding confines. Perhaps she could waylay him on the road.

  The setting sun stretched deepening shadows through the woods. She examined her possessions. A black quarterstaff as tall as her shoulders was nothing more than a fancy walking stick in her hands. Her finely crafted black bow and matching quiver full of low profile, fletched arrows—ideal for greater arrow speed, but trickier to keep on target—was by far her weapon of choice. She grimaced at the loss of one of her arrows on the training ground. How she would have loved to shove it up Anvil’s backside. A grin creased her otherwise dour expression, but it quickly faded.